The Sea Lion
by Echoing Fantasy
Summary: The Young Lion is dead, his wife is sleeping with the enemy and his son is missing. The Commission wants him so they can knock Enrico off the throne. Vongola wants him for his resemblance to Primo. Yet it is Xanxus, who never wanted him in the first place, who finds him. Eventual parental!X27/Varia27.
1. Escape

_The Sea Lion_

**Story Warnings:** This story is rated **M **for mature. There is swearing, violence, and sexual themes. Characters may be OOC (out of character), canon events have been changed and there are OC (original characters) in this story. Please heed all warnings accordingly and read as you see fit.

* * *

"**Fuga"**

"_Things are not always, things are not always as they seem. Will you be ready?" - _Imogen Heap, 2-1

* * *

Being born to Sawada Ietsuna had its perks. One of those perks was the famous Vongola Intuition, an ability of the highest caliber that had started at Giotto Vongola and made its way down the centuries, gradually bleeding itself dry as it went. Only the purest of flame and resolve could wield it effectively, which was why after nine generations of nothing but blood and violence it had almost completely burnt itself out. Vongola Nono didn't have enough intuition to save himself from the cross-hairs of a sniper if the sniper in question was standing right next to him.

This was, in part, why Nono had invited Sawada Iemitsu into his ranks. Because unlike the Ninth, Iemitsu had eighty-five percent pure Vongola blood in him, making him the first to have the Vongola Intuition in an active form since Secondo. And much like Secondo had done, Iemitsu used it to further his battle abilities, rather than his passive ones, like Primo had done. The result was a very strong, capable fighter who would not only break bones, but pull a person apart if need be. It helped that he didn't have much trouble with copious amounts of blood and gore, and could clean up his messes rather well. All in all, he would have made a much more acceptable heir than any of Timoteo's sons, who like their father had little of that precious Vongola blood.

But Iemitsu had a mind like a steel trap to go along with his intuition, and rather than fall to the machinations of the old man and his upper echelon, had enrolled himself in the CEDEF under Lal Mirch, who had by that time quit COMSUBIN. She had taken him under her wing, trained him, and after a few years he had taken over the organization as its leader. Due to the rule that prevented any member of one of the inner-Family organizations from taking over, Iemitsu was safe from Nono and the echelon, much to their distaste. It remained this way for a time, up until Iemitsu's first and only son, Tsunayoshi, was born. Recognizing the danger, Iemitsu told no one about his child's birth, and asked anyone that did find out (Lal Mirch and Colonello) to keep it from the Ninth.

For the most part, Iemitsu was able to keep his secret safe. The moment it all fell apart was when Nana was diagnosed with Postpartum Depression and Iemitsu had to go home to help his wife, which required him to get permission from the Ninth. Nono's insistence on accompanying him and "helping Nana feel better" were only the final nails in the coffin. There was nothing Iemitsu could do. And so he stayed back when a dog scared his son and the bright, powerful Flame emerged around his body, acting as a deterrent to any enemies in the vicinity.

He said nothing when the Ninth sealed the Flame off with his own, and left a few hours later, right after citing Tsunayoshi as his new heir. Furious didn't even _begin _to describe Iemitsu the next morning when his son, instead of gracefully running down the steps to greet him in the morning, _fell _down the stairs. The loss of his Vongola blood had upset the fragile balance inside of him, and that in turn had affected the rest of his son's abilities.

Within a few days Tsunayoshi went from a happy child to an absolute wreck, refusing to smile or even giggle. Those few times he went to the park to play he always came back with dirt smeared on his clothes, on his face and in his hair. Closer inspection always yielded the same thing – small hand prints. Children that had held no qualms with Tsuna before were suddenly bullying him, calling him "Dame-Tsuna" (a nickname that made him see red) and making him cry. His precious little boy no longer wanted to go outside, or even associate with the rest of the world. And Iemitsu _loathed _it.

And so he began to dedicate his time to finding a way to free Tsuna's Flame again. Yes it might have been undermining his Boss on some level, but Iemitsu was determined to be a damn good father to the only child he would probably ever have in his entire life, and if that meant family before _famiglia_ then he'd suffer the consequences gladly. Nana's sudden exhaustion and inability to deal with Tsuna made it the ideal time to take a few months away from Vongola. He used the time wisely, researching at night and taking care of Tsuna during the day. Gradually through the years Nana became distant in both of their lives, never truly looking after Tsunayoshi and leaving most of the work to Iemitsu.

The blond learned to cook, clean and take care of his son as well as himself. He learned what to say to make Tsuna stop crying, what to do to coax the shy little boy into going out and enjoying life even when the rest of the world seemed to want him to suffer. He learned Tsuna's likes and dislikes, kept up with his academics and taught him how to handle himself when strangers came around. In short, Iemitsu became the kind of father he had always longed to be, and Tsuna came to see him as his pillar of strength and sole parent.

When Tsuna was six, Iemitsu had to go back to Italy for a year. He told his son in advance, explaining he didn't have a choice, this was the only thing keeping food in their mouths. After a couple of hours Tsuna agreed with it. To ease the separation, Iemitsu bought a laptop with a video camera attachment and set up a communications line between the two so that at the end of each day Tsuna would be able to call and see him for a short time, and Iemitsu could still help him through his struggles and make sure his son was alright.

It worked rather well, given how much work Iemitsu had to do in a year's time. In between the darkness of the mafia world and the light that was his son, he manged to get things squared away. It was also around that time that the upper echelon, who had been waiting patiently for Nono's supposed 'successor' to step up, finally grew tired of the stalling and demanded to know who exactly they were supposed to be waiting on. It was Iemitsu who broke the news, informing the group that composed the Commission about his son and how he knew nothing of the mafia world at a mere _seven _years of age, and how Nono was expecting him to step up in a few measly years, when he would step down.

Needless to say, the Commission was not pleased. Neither was Nono, but no one cared. He was ordered to choose one of his sons for a successor, and do so within a year, or else all alliances with the Vongola would be broken. Enrico stepped up to take the mantel before Iemitsu left for Japan again, having handed in his resignation. Lal was back in the seat as the leader, and the blond went back to dedicating his days to Tsuna, who had hit a growth spurt while he was gone as well as puberty. His days of being a mafioso over at long last, Iemitsu looked forward to watching his son grow up and become a man.

That had all been six years ago. Now, Tsuna was thirteen, attending Namimori Middle School, and doing rather well for himself. Only a few kids still called Tsuna 'dame', and the teachers had begun to at least act like they weren't mocking Tsuna behind his back whenever he happened to get a lower-than-average score on a test (those were becoming few and far between with Iemitsu's help). He was proud of his own accomplishments, and smiled more. All in all, it was the ideal life Iemitsu had always dreamed of.

Now if only Nana could be here to share it, instead of locked up in her room at all hours of the day.

The front door opened, and Iemitsu looked up from the newspaper he had been reading as Tsuna's voice echoed through the house. "I'm home!"

"Welcome back, Tsuna-kun. How was your day?" His boy walked into the room, and the blonde noticed he had a nervous, yet somehow deliriously happy air about him. "Oh? Did something happen?"

Tsuna nodded, cheeks turning red. Iemitsu hummed under his breath, folding the newspaper up and setting it aside, patting the spot beside him. "Does it have anything to do with that lovely Miss Sasagawa you've had your eye on?"

"Dad!" Tsuna squeaked in embarrassment even as he nodded and sat down. He was fiddling with his fingers, Iemitsu noting two new bandages on his right middle finger. Taking the hand gently in his own, he pointed at them. Tsuna peeled them back to show the twin, thin red lines on his finger. "Just paper cuts."

"Did you put any antiseptic on them?" Caution overrode curiosity for the moment. When Tsuna shook his head, he clucked his tongue and rose to get the Neosporin he had tucked away for these occasions. Even if he wasn't as clumsy as he had been before, Tsuna still managed to do little damages to himself that were usually covered with one of the numerous band-aides he carried in his pocket until he got home, when Iemitsu could properly fuss over him.

"Alright now, getting back to the topic." Iemitsu set the tube aside as Tsuna re-wrapped the finger, "What's got you so happy about young Miss Sasagawa, hm?"

"Y-you've always said that f-fortune favors the b-bold," Tsuna started with a deep breath. "S-so I took your advice."

"Oh?" Now he had a creeping suspicion. "Then...?"

"I-I asked her out."

He couldn't have stopped the proud grin even if he'd tried. "A_aaand?_"

His son's blush had reached all the way to his neck and hairline, but he was smiling. "S-she said yes!"

The jubilant yell Iemitsu gave was masked only by the sound of his feet hitting the floor as he jumped up off the ground. "My boy's got his first date! And with the girl of his dreams, no less!"

"D-dad! Stop that!" Tsuna swatted feebly at him as he was picked up and twirled around like his father had enjoyed doing when he'd been younger. There was no real heat behind his demand though, and Iemitsu knew that. "Ugh, you're so immature sometimes, I swear!"

"Oh, like you didn't jump for joy when you heard it too!" Iemitsu shot back. Tsuna felt his color rise again.

"I-I at least waited until I was out of sight and earshot before I did it!"

"Aha! So you DID do it!"

"Daaad!"

Iemitsu just snuggled his son harder. "I can't believe it. My baby boy's growing up! Oh, it seems like it was just yesterday that you were small enough to ride on my shoulders, and you wanted nothing more than to watch your cartoons and eat your favorite cereal. And now you've got a date... I expect grandchildren you know."

Tsuna shrieked in horror, eyes wide. "_What?_"

"At least three."

"**What?!**"

"Of each gender."

Tsuna sagged in his grip, close to unconsciousness. Iemitsu chuckled. "I'm kidding, Tsuna-kun. What kind of father would I be if I let my darling boy lose his virginity on the first date?"

The choked noise Tsuna gave made him think that wasn't what the brunette was worried about. He set his son back down and headed to the kitchen. "I think we need something special to celebrate. What do you want for dinner tonight?"

The brunette, used to such events by now, shook off the shock and began heading upstairs with his backpack to get started on his homework. "Tell you what, you decide. You know I never mind as long as you cook it."

"True. Well then, how about something from Italy?"

"Sounds fine to me! I'm going to take a bath before dinner."

"Let me know if you have any questions on your homework, and I'll lend a hand," Iemitsu called up. He already knew Tsuna would, but the words were part of the evening schedule, and soothing in their own way.

After opening the fridge and examining the contents, as well as rifling around in the cupboards and drawers around the house, Iemitsu had what he was looking for. It would take Tsuna fifteen minutes to finish his homework in the good mood he was in, and another ten to take his bath, so by the time he got out and dressed dinner would be ready. Humming under his breath, Iemitsu set to work.

Thirty minutes later, he was knocking at his son's door. "Dinner's on! Come eat while its hot."

Tsuna opened the door before Iemitsu could turn around, stomach growling. He sniffed the air, his eyes widening a bit. "That smells delicious – what the heck did you make?"

Iemitsu snickered. His son would never know it, but subconsciously he tended to favor Italian foods rather than Japanese. "It's called _rise e bise. _Over it Italy, its a food most children eat, which is why I made it." The duo made their way to the kitchen; the food was already set out and waiting for them. He hid a grin behind his hand when he noticed Tsuna drooling a bit. "I take it you like it?"

"If the smell is anything to go by, heck yes!" And without even waiting for it to cool, Tsuna picked up the spoon (for once he couldn't use chopsticks) and dug in, eyes widening as the hot food settled in his mouth. "It's delicious!"

"Good. Now sit down and eat, would you? I promise you there's more than enough for a second helping if you want one, and the food is certainly not going to run off." He teased. Tsuna was a growing boy, with a growing hunger to go along with it. _Just like me when I was his age, _Iemitsu thought fondly as he started on his own dinner. He doubted Nana would be down anytime soon – she usually took her dinner late at night, after Tsuna had gone to bed. The lack of her at the dinner table had long stopped hurting, although occasionally Iemitsu would feel a familiar ache start up in his chest again.

Nana had, for all intents and purposes, abandoned Tsuna and Iemitsu. The doctors had told Iemitsu that her PPD had the possibility of lasting up to a year, although there was an equal chance that it would only last a few weeks or a couple months. Iemitsu had been fine with that – well not _fine, _per say, but he'd been more than willing to pick up the slack and take care of Tsuna while his wife recovered. But a year had come and gone, and instead of getting better, Nana had only seemed to get worse. She no longer spoke to either himself or Tsuna, and when she did her tone was clipped and cold, like she was talking to a pair of unwanted strangers rather than her husband and only child.

When he'd been younger, her attitude had often been what made Tsuna cry at night when he thought no one could hear him. Iemitsu had cradled Tsuna to him and told him that his mother didn't hate him, that she was just going through some difficult times and they needed to support her as best they could. Tsuna had agreed, and ever since then tried to keep a smile on his face even when Nana's words were cutting and harsh. He did everything he could to be a good son, and Iemitsu had never been prouder. But Nana refused to acknowledge anything he did, and had even attempted to hit him when he did something wrong. Iemitsu had gotten between her and Tsuna before anything happened, but the fact that his normally sweet Nana had done something like that...

Iemitsu knew when to let go. Even if he didn't want to admit it, the time for Nana to call herself a mother and wife was over. As of these last few years, Tsuna was the only family he had now. Not even Nono had the privilege of saying that anymore.

"Going for a third helping?" He asked as Tsuna polished off his second bowl. The brunette's eyes darted between the empty bowl and the still half-full pot for a moment before he shook his head, nose wrinkling. His stomach was bulging enough as it was – best not to test it.

"I think I'll be okay for right now." He stood, taking his bowl to the sink to wash it out. Iemitsu finished off his own bowl slowly, some part of him actively longing for anything related to his old home. It was the mafia side of him, the side that for all his efforts, he couldn't completely quash. It made him sick to his stomach, but what little connections he still had to that world were nothing but necessary. Necessary for his survival – and for Tsuna's.

"Going to bed?"

"Uh-huh. School's going to be really hard tomorrow." Tsuna smiled but it didn't reach his eyes. Iemitsu frowned and motioned the boy close, taking his son's small hands in his own.

"A moment ago you were happy. Is there something you aren't telling me, Tsuna? You know if you're in trouble with anything, if someone's hurting you-"

Tsuna shook his head, but it was hesitant. "It's... well, you know that around the school I'm not exactly Mr. Popular. And Mochida-sempai had pretty much been telling the whole school for a while that she's 'his girl'."

Iemitsu ran his thumbs over the backs of Tsuna's hands, humming his agreement. Yes, he did know that – he had heard the boy bragging about it several times to his buddies when they were downtown. It had sickened him, thinking that the boy was making the girl out to be some kind of trophy, a prize to be won. _Real men don't treat their women as anything less than real people, _he had told Tsuna, who had been helping him shop at the time. Tsuna had certainly taken the words to heart, if his gentle words and polite manners towards the fairer sex were anything to go by. Another thing Iemitsu was proud of.

"I just... If I come home tomorrow and I look like I've been in, oh say a kendo fight, don't panic, okay?" Tsuna asked quietly.

Iemitsu's temper sharpened. His son, in a kendo match? Absolutely not. _And I'm willing to bet my left nut that this "Mochida-sempai" has one of his lackeys stand in as the referee, and won't give Tsuna a point no matter where he hits. _"You won't be in any kendo fight, Tsuna, because I'm going to make sure that boy and his brats won't bother you."

"Da-" Tsuna started. But Iemitsu shook his head. There came a time and point for boys to be boys, but there was also a time when parents needed to step in. It was one thing to get in a fist fight and settle it one on one like men. It was another thing entirely to rig a kendo match just to keep an opponent away from a girl one of them viewed as nothing more than a trophy.

"No. This boy, from how you've described him and what I've seen with my own eyes, is too arrogant for his own good. He thinks because he's popular he can do whatever he likes, without regard for anyone else. If he thinks he can make you bow before him, he has another thing coming." Already, plans were forming in his mind about how to go about and terrorize the little shit into submission. Things that were everyday, but not normal for _him_, things that other people wouldn't notice.

Maybe, if Iemitsu played his cards right, he could even get away with getting him in trouble with a few teachers? Maybe get him a suspension or two? _No, no, that's too much. He'd think Tsuna had something to do with it and go after him, as would his groupies. I need subtle, quick. Guerrilla warfare._ Guerrilla warfare he could do – he had done it in the CEDEF, and he could certainly do it now against a bunch of teenagers.

"Dad?"

"Hm?" Jerked out of his plotting, he looked up to find Tsuna with a worried expression on his face. "Are you okay? You were zoning out..."

"Aha, I'm fine, Tsuna-kun! Just thinking about your future." He smiled broadly, trying to erase some of the tension in the room. His cute son gave him a look that said he didn't buy it, but he didn't press either. He picked up Iemitsu's bowl and carried it to the sink. Iemitsu allowed the smile to drop once his back was turned, sighing through his nose silently. Things were getting out of hand again, just like before and just like before someone he loved was in danger of being hurt.

_What must I do to escape these manipulative people? _He wondered with a scowl, standing and carrying the pot with the rest of the meal to the fridge. _How many times will I have to raise my fists to protect my own against the world? _He didn't like Namimori anymore; not as much as he had when they had first moved here. He had known at the time that Tsuna and Nana would be safe here, and that's why he had bought the house. But times were changing now, and Tsuna was growing up in a world where codes of honor and loyalty didn't exist. Where everyone was fair game and only the strong survived.

The mafia had places like that too, but they at least had codes of honor. Women and children were never targeted, and kids had the option of standing on neutral ground rather than joining a _famiglia._ They could even be freelance neutrals, which basically meant they went to and from many different houses freely, and worked for whoever needed help at the time. In the old times, being a neutral was a lot like being royalty – you were welcomed with open arms, and received quite a lot of attention. Best of all, anyone that targeted a neutral, hurt or even killed one, was put away by the Vindice if they weren't killed by an angry _famiglia_ first.

But times were changing there too. Iemitsu's contacts told him that the new bosses held no such honor, and in fact ignored the old codes, going out of their way to target the women and children just to get a reaction. The thought made him sick. This wasn't the world he had wanted Tsuna to live in. He had wanted peace, a place where Tsuna could carve himself a niche and marry the girl of his dreams and settle down happily. Not defend himself and his relationship with the girl he loved against kendo-abusing bastards like this Mochida.

A gentle hand touched his arm, and Iemitsu looked over, shuddering as he realized Tsuna was looking at him with _those _eyes. The eyes of his bloodline – of Primo's bloodline. "It'll be okay," Tsuna said calmly, voice deep and tone even. Iemitsu swallowed, reminded of that intuition that never truly went away, of the Will that could not be defied, and of the Flame that burned brighter than the sun itself. All these things, Tsuna had but could not use. Not by his own volition.

_Someday, someone will have to teach him how to control it. _

Iemitsu knew, somewhere deep inside himself where his own intuition stemmed from, that that "someone" was not him. Attempts to think that far into the future, to get a grasp of whether what was coming was good or bad was usually met by a feeling of frost down his spine. The cold was a sign of incoming war, of struggles and fights that Iemitsu could not win. A future where Iemitsu wasn't there to see his boy grow up...

The blond closed his eyes. He had prepared for such a day, long ago when he had set up his contact list. He had asked a favor of each of them, and all had agreed. When the day finally came that Iemitsu could no longer protect Tsuna from the world he had left, he would send his child off to the one place he knew would be safe. His contacts would be waiting to ship Tsuna along, and they would drop him off at the doorstep of the one group who could protect him. Iemitsu could only pray that they _would – _they weren't exactly known for being a charity case after all, no matter how well the leader took care of his own.

Until then however, Iemitsu would count his blessings, and cherish each day he got to see his boy grow and mature a little more. Looking at Tsuna, he smiled and ruffled the soft locks. "I know, but I'm allowed to worry." He winked. "It's part of growing old."

Something dark and sad crossed his boy's gaze, and vanished behind the gold glimmer again. "You're not old, dad," Tsuna whispered, fading back into his normal self. "You're the strongest person I know."

_But not as strong as I once was. I can't fight like I used to. _He thought to say the words, but resisted. No reason to send Tsuna's intuition into fits this late in the evening. So he kept up the smile that didn't reach his eyes and pulled the brunette into a hug. "I know, Tsuna." _I'll keep you safe for as long as I possibly can. I won't let them get to you without a fight._

Tsuna pulled back, the gleam of gold and calm aura gone. He was back to his usual self. "I'm going to bed now, dad. Goodnight."

"Good night, Tsuna. Sleep well!"

"You too."

He listened for the quiet noise associated with Tsuna's door closing, and sagged back in his chair when it came. Tonight had started off beautifully, but quickly spiraled downward. And he knew, somehow, that it wasn't over yet. Rather, tonight had been the start of it all, the spark to start the fire. The only question now was how long did he have before the fire threatened to consume all he knew and loved? How much time did he have to prepare for a war against the ones he'd left long ago?

As if to answer his question, a sweeping cold descended on his body, and he sucked back a gasp. _No, no it can't be- not yet, its too soon not yet, please-_

_**Riiiiing.**_

Something like a vice squeezed down on his heart as his stomach churned and his palms went sweaty. _No, no no no no no, gods above don't let it be what I think it is. Please, please I'll never ask for anything again so long as this isn't what I think it is. _On shaky legs he stood and walked to the hallway, coming to stand before the phone. _Please._

_Please, let it be an old man's paranoia, nothing more!_

He answered it.

"_**Is this the Sawada residence?"** _A shy female voice asked. Iemitsu's entire body sagged, and he laughed a little as he answered.

"Yes, it is! May I ask who is calling?"

"_**Um, Sasagawa Kyoko. I'm not sure whether we've met or not Sawada-san-"**_

"No, but my boy just finished telling me about you. Lucky girl." He couldn't help the grin that crossed his face again.

"_**Th-thank you very much! Um, I was calling actually to let Tsuna know I can't make tomorrow's date. My mother is a wedding planner you see, and sometimes she has to move around in order to get what she needs, and she won't let me date unless she's there to chaperone it." **_The girl sounded embarrassed by this, but Iemitsu chuckled. _Wise old woman. **"So, could you possibly tell Tsuna-kun that I'll talk to him Thursday, and reschedule if we can? I'm really sorry."**_

"Don't worry young lady, these things happen." Iemitsu confided. "He's asleep right now, but I'll let him know before he heads off tomorrow."

"_**Ah, thank you very much, Sawada-san! Goodbye."**_

"Goodbye." He heaved a sigh as he returned the phone to the cradle, heart rate coming down. _Spooky. There for a minute, I honestly thought it was about to hit the fan. Miss Sasagawa gave me quite the scare! _Chuckling to himself over his self-induced panic, he turned and prepared to step back into the kitchen.

_**Riiiiing.**_

* * *

Something was wrong. Tsuna didn't know how he knew this, all he knew was that ever since this evening's conversation with his father, there had been an anxious sort of energy running around inside of him. Despite what he had told his father, he hadn't gone to sleep yet. Instead he was sitting up in bed, clothes back on, waiting for _something _to happen.

At first he had tried to shake the feeling off. But the longer he went on ignoring it, the worse it got. Eventually Tsuna had stood and dressed, and some of the anxiety had faded away. His eyes had been drawn to a small overnight bag, and the pressing urge had come back. So he had packed the bag full of clothes and a one or two personal items and put it in front of him. Now the energy was rising again, cresting like a wave about to hit the beach, and Tsuna was holding on for dear life and praying that he could overcome whatever was going to happen.

The door opened, and Tsuna's eyes went wide as his father walked into the room, looking paler than he had ever seen him before. "Dad?"

"Tsuna, you need to-" he stopped as he caught sight of his son, staring at the clothes and then the bag before looking back up and nodding resolutely. "Never mind. You need to come with me."

"Dad, what's going on? I've got a really bad feeling-"

"I know." At the bottom of the steps, his father turned towards him and knelt, taking his hands in his own. A slow burn started to unwind inside of him like a snake, and the anxiety fell back. "Do you remember all those years ago when I told you I had to go overseas to my job to finish some stuff up?" Tsuna nodded. "The people I worked with were not nice people, Tsuna. What we did... it was illegal, and it could have gotten us in a lot of trouble with the police. We were bad people."

"But you got out of it," Tsuna whispered, the burn taking over his sight. A bright orange pinprick was in his father's chest, slowly getting bigger by the second. "You came home and stayed with me."

"I did. Because I loved you and your mother, and I knew if I stayed I would hurt you both. So I tried to be a good father." He paused, appearing to gather his nerve. "And now I have to do it again, Tsuna. The people I worked with are coming here. They want to hurt you because of something that happened a long time ago."

Suddenly the burn was in control, and Tsuna felt an eerie calm wash over him. From far away, he heard his voice ask, "You want me to leave, don't you?"

Iemitsu nodded, eyes bright. "I love you, Tsuna, and I'd do anything for you. Including putting you in a cab with a stranger you've never met before, and having you transferred someplace safe."

Something in Tsuna's chest ached acutely. "Where will we go?"

Iemitsu froze and for one moment the boy thought that perhaps his father hadn't thought this through. But when he spoke again, his voice was laced with regret."Not _we, _Tsuna. You. I... I'm going to stay here, and keep them from coming after you."

Reality crashed in like a fist to the gut. "No... no you can't stay! No, no no! You have to come with me, you have to-"

"Tsuna-"

"I won't let you stay here by yourself! Dad, _please-_"

"_Listen to me!" _Iemitsu roared, making Tsuna jump, eyes wide. The man's hands gripped his shoulders tightly, pulling him close and shaking him. "You don't have a choice! If I go with you, they'll catch us before we even get to the airport! I _have _to stay here! You need to go where I tell you to go, and get to safety." His tone softened a little. "Please Tsunayoshi. _Please."_

Even as something in Tsuna started screaming out in denial, his head was bobbing up and down in a nod without his consent. Iemitsu's eyes gleamed with pride, and he ruffled the brown hair. "Good boy. Here." He handed over a piece of paper with words written on them, and an envelope with a seal on it. "Now listen closely, these are the locations where each of my friends will pick you up. You have to be on this **exact **location. Don't talk to anyone, don't look at anyone, and most importantly _keep moving. _Don't stop, not even for a minute, okay?

The envelope is for when you reach your destination. You'll meet a man there, his name is on the bottom of the instructions. Give him the envelope, and when he asks you what you want, tell him, 'I request protection from the Vongola under the Law of Sanctuary.'" Iemitsu paused, watching as Tsuna took both things. "Do you understand, Tsunayoshi? Repeat what I've told you."

"Go to each of these locations exactly, don't talk to anyone, don't look at anyone, don't stop. When I reach the end of it, I talk to a man and tell him I want protection from the Vongola under the Law of Sanctuary," Tsuna parroted back. Iemitsu nodded.

"Good. Another thing. The man will probably have a big group with him – don't pay them any mind. You only need this man's say-so, and none of them will touch you."

"What am I supposed to do from there?"

Iemitsu paused. He had only been relying on his intuition's instructions so far, but his son didn't know that. "You... He..." he tried to explain. Finally he gave up. "You just wait. Something will happen, and you'll have a place to stay, and someone who can protect you."

"And you'll come later, right?"

Again, Iemitsu froze. He swallowed, trying to find the voice to tell his son the truth. But he couldn't. He couldn't find the words to tell his son that more than likely he would be dead by that point, and his only chance at survival would be to gain the favor of a bloodthirsty mafia man. "Yes, Tsuna. I'll... I'll come later. Much later, okay? Y-you shouldn't ask around, or try to push to get me there faster. I'll be there... when I can." He patted his son's shoulders, forcing a smile onto his face. "So just be patient, okay? Do what the man tells you, work hard, and don't give up on living, okay?"

Tsuna nodded. "I'll miss you." He reached out and hugged his father, burying his face in his neck and memorizing the scent. "You'll take care of mom, won't you?"

"Ah. I'll take care of her." His father's voice was quiet, and his hands tight on his son's waist, as if he never wanted to let go. Tsuna let him cling until a horn sounded outside, and even then he was slow to move back. He smiled up at the brunette. "I'm proud of you, Tsuna. So very, very proud."

Tsuna smiled. "I bet you'll be even more proud of me when you show up. You won't even recognize me, I'll have grown up so much!"

The blond laughed. "I bet I won't! I'll probably ask, 'Where's Tsuna?' and you'll be right in front of me!"

The brunette giggled, the thought amusing. Iemitsu watched as his son went to the door and opened it, glancing back just once. "I love you, dad."

When Iemitsu spoke again, his voice was the softest Tsuna had ever heard. "I love you too, Tsuna. Never forget that. Promise me?"

"Of course I won't forget it. How could I?" And then he closed the door, and Iemitsu listened with a breaking heart as the car door slammed, and the vehicle pulled away, the sound soon vanishing in the distance.

Standing, he made his way slowly back up the stairs, this time turning towards Nana's room. The door was unlocked, and he let himself in without worry. The room was tiny and neat, and a thick layer of dust had started to grow on the desk and TV. The bed was made, the pillows untouched. The window was open, although the blinds cleverly covered it up. Without a breeze, it was easy to dismiss.

Iemitsu sat on the bed, and closed his eyes. The pounding in his skull was getting worse, and he knew he needed to call up the one who had warned him in the first place. Reaching for the phone beside the bed, he dialed the number and put it to his ear.

"It's done."

"_Very well. I'll set the illusion up."_

Soon a purple flame appeared in the room, and a warm sensation swept over the house. Now whoever attempted to track Tsuna would find their scanners pointing back towards the house.

"_There we go."_

"Thank you."

"_Don't thank me for taking your son away from you, Sawada Iemitsu."_

The blond chuckled mirthlessly. "I'm not. I'm thanking you for saving him."

"_Hm. I'll keep an eye on your boy until he reaches the drop-off point. After that, he's on his own."_

Iemitsu nodded, knowing the other would know he had. "Again, thank you. Even if I won't get to see him become a man, at least I'll die knowing he's safe away from the Vongola."

"_Away isn't the right word. Away implies he isn't in the same country – I can't guarentee he'll be safe, but I can guarantee you he won't be taken."_

"How can you be so sure? You know how the Varia is."

"_Ah. But I also know how Xanxus is_. _How clear-sighted he is, and how possessive he can be protecting what is his – something his elder brother lacks._"

Iemitsu closed his eyes again, feeling the last bit of worry slip away."I never thought I'd ever say this, but I'm glad Enrico took the throne. Even though he's destroying all his father and I worked for, things are still looking better than they were ten years ago." He sighed.

"_Indeed. Change comes in many forms, some good, some bad, all worthy of notice. Your son will bring another change about, but its hard to say which his will be." _The voice paused before continuing in a much more brisk tone. _"Goodnight and goodbye, Sawada Iemitsu. It was nice knowing you."_

"Ah, you as well. Give my ex-wife my regards, should you see her."

"_Oh believe you me, I'll do more than that."_

And with a click, the phone went dead.

* * *

Author's Notes

"Fuga" means _escape _or _run _in Italian. Xanxus is currently **24**; Tsuna is **13 **(basically canon age). Enrico is **42, **Federico is **40 **and Massimo is **37. **

**Post-partum Depression (**or **Post-natal Depression) **is a type of clinical depression that can affect women (and less frequently, men) typically after childbirth. Symptoms include sadness, fatigue, changes in sleeping and eating patterns, reduced libido, crying episodes, anxiety, and irritability.

**Guerrilla Warfare (**or **Guerrilla tactics **) is a form of irregular warfare in which a small group of combatants use military tactics including ambushes, sabotages, raids, petty warfare, hit-and-run tactics and extraordinary mobility to fight a larger and less-mobile traditional army.

Hey look, its another rewrite of an old story! Once again, I'm keeping my fingers crossed I managed to eliminate those nasty plotholes so people will stop falling in them. (I'm really getting tired of having to deal with the hospital bills).

If you happen to know/speak Italian, please tell me if my translation of the chapter titles is correct. I'm using two or three different online translators, and so far all have matched up, but I would rather be safe than sorry. The same goes for my facts and plot – if there's something that doesn't seem to add up or make sense, either comment or PM me and I'll either explain it or try to straighten it out.

Comments, questions, concerns? Let me hear your thoughts!


	2. Travel

"**Spostarsi"**

"_Give me a disaster, give me emergency. Stand me at the head of the crusade without a remedy. Be steady on your feet, no matter the trouble you'll meet." - _LIGHTS, Lions Make You Brave

* * *

Night seemed to fall too quickly after that. Sitting in the back of the cab, his bag beside him, Tsuna leaned against the window and watched the world blur by, the regular lines of light coming from the street lamps his only illumination beyond the moon itself. It was peaceful, the perfect setting to relax and unwind. Except the boy wasn't paying a lick of attention to any of it.

"You're thinking too much."

The soft tenor voice dragged Tsuna out of his thoughts. He looked up towards the front of the cab. "Am I really? My father just kicked me out of the house because someone is after him – after _me, _and instead of saving himself, he chose to stay behind." The brunette shook his head. "It's all so confusing."

"And yet, it is perfectly clear." The man replied in a tone that said the sky was blue, gravity pulled things down and Tsuna was smarter than this. "Your attempts to make it more complex than it is will only end up hindering you in the long run. For now, take your father's words at face value, and accept what has come to be."

Tsuna slumped in his seat with a low sigh."I guess. I just feel like I'm missing something, though."

"A good puzzle will stump its players, and takes time to solve. There's no shame in admitting you can't see the whole picture right out of the box," the driver told him. "It's when the puzzle is easy to see that one must be on guard."

He looked up into the rear view mirror. "How will I know the difference? For all I know, this puzzle could look difficult but actually be easy. Who's to say that I won't end up trapped by the end of it all?"

There – he'd voiced his fears. The despair he'd been holding back since he'd stepped outside his house came flooding back, making him bite his lip. _Idiot, why did you say that? The guy just told you that you were thinking too much... _

Against his better judgment he found his eyes drawn back to the mirror, wondering what the response would be. The driver turned his head just slightly, and stern grey eyes locked onto Tsuna's own, a sliver of white hair appearing at the side. The air_ pulsed, _and something in him shrieked, suddenly making him aware of the too-warm current of power surging around him, a chill that was not his own, that _did not belong there. _

But even as he began to panic and tried to break the stare between them, the cold pressed down on him, sweeping aside his resistance as if it were little more than a bit of dirt.

_**Be calm, **_a voice inside his head ordered.

His muscles relaxed, and his mind went blank, although the panic inside of him continued to grow. The chill coiled around his body like a snake, holding him in place as a mantra ran through his head. He was safe. Nothing would harm him. He didn't need to panic or fight back here, because everything would be okay. Every time his fears tried to rise again, the mantra would get a little louder, shoving it back down.

The battle between him and the nameless entity wore Tsuna down within minutes, causing him to slump back in his seat, barely able to keep his eyes open over the rush of sudden exhaustion. Contentment and approval brushed against his senses when he finally gave up, the power drawing back a little, the cold returning. It felt a bit like touching a live wire without the actual sensation, and the teenager shuddered as energy abruptly returned to his limbs.

Tsuna shook his head carefully in an attempt to clear some of the fog away. "W-who are you?" _Or perhaps I should ask __**what **__you are..._

The man in the front seat hummed. "That's a very good question, Tsunayoshi. But it requires you to answer something in turn."

"What?"

Something in the air changed, and everything in Tsuna cringed as a power far greater than what had touched him before bore down on him. Just as the teen was sure he was going to snap in half from the pressure inside him it vanished, leaving him trembling in its wake. "Which side do you plan on playing for?"

Confusion took over his mind, but before he could give voice to his thoughts the cab drew to a stop. The door opened without either of them touching it, although the people outside didn't seem to notice. "When you can answer that," the driver said, "I will tell you my name."

Tsuna slid out of the seat, taking his bag with him. The sudden shift from the protective insides of the cab, held by a power that was unlike any other to the cold, vulnerable world where he needed to fend for himself left him feeling afraid. He looked back in time to see the man turn just slightly, so Tsuna saw those eyes again, felt the brush of power against something inside him like a farewell kiss. "We will meet again, Sawada Tsunayoshi. Until that time however, strive to become strong and overcome all the challenges you will face."

The door shut, and the cab drove off, leaving Tsuna standing there feeling as if he'd missed something critical. It wasn't until he turned to look at his paper for the next set of instructions that he remembered the man hadn't answered his question about the entire thing being a trap.

* * *

_Bologna; Emilia-Romagna, Northern Italy_

There was something incredibly soothing about sleeping on a 17th-century Venetian couch during a rainstorm. It helped even more since the couch seat was made with thick crimson velvet and the overall bodywork was sturdy – the perfect combination for someone like the Varia leader, who despised things that were too soft or too hard.

He wasn't asleep, not truly; he hadn't been able to sleep for a very long time now, but this pleasantly numb, half-fuzzy-and-warm state was as close as he could manage to get to it and Xanxus gladly took advantage of that. He was well and truly content – a rare feeling in his existence – because in his own terms, he was someplace safe.

He was in his rooms – not his main room where his desk and the paperwork and the darkness was, but his suite, where his bed and couch and alcohol were all held. A bottle of perfectly aged wine sat on the glass table beside the couch, within reaching distance; there was already a small half-filled glass beside that. The window was partially open, not enough to soak the floors but just enough to let him hear the roar of the storm and smell the rain and ocean mixing as one.

He was comfortable, his stomach full of good wine. And best of all his migraine was finally beginning to go away. As far as Xanxus was concerned, there was no reason for him to do anything apart from _this _the rest of the day.

There came a soft knock on the door.

Inwardly Xanxus groaned, but outwardly he made a grunting noise – the only admission to come in the person on the other end would get. He wasn't wasting energy when it wasn't needed, not even to answer a door.

The soft, light footsteps and smell of scented oil and rosemary told him that it was Squalo, the sword master of the Varia and the commander of his troops. And, more importantly, Xanxus' right hand man.

"Boss," the swordsman was careful to keep his voice low and quiet – two things that pleased Xanxus immensely and kept him from shoving his gun up the other man's nose and pulling the trigger. That and the fact that without Squalo around, those loons outside would drive him up a wall within moments. "I've got a report and a request."

Once again, Xanxus grunted. No real response, but also neither acceptance nor denial of what was being said. It was his way of telling the other to keep talking until he either got annoying or things got boring. Whichever came first.

"You were right; the traitor was in Melone's care. Bel took him down and got back the hard drive that the bastard stole." Squalo carefully moved around the couch and placed the hard drive on the table before moving back behind the couch once again. "Levi fried the remaining threats and the group commander while I got into their files."

This time Xanxus' noise was pitched a bit higher, signaling interest in the chosen topic. "They were working alongside the Ludavi until two months ago, when they broke off all connection with no explanation to the Ludavi boss. Apparently, it was around that same time that the Winncott _famiglia_ came up with a rather interesting drug."

Xanxus opened a single eye just a sliver. Another noise, no higher, no lower.

"We got a small sample of it and tried it on one of the lower mooks that were lingering around. From what Mammon found out, its mainly used with your average band of date-rape drugs to help things along. The difference with this one though is that it causes immense pain to the person who takes it after the first few minutes while causing a sort of sleep paralysis. The drug lasts for three days, and has no cure, as of yet." Squalo concluded his report, flipping the paper he was reading off of in half and once again moving around the couch to place it on the table.

By this time Xanxus had both of his eyes open, and was in the process of struggling to sit up. After a moment his still-sore limbs came together, the muscles bunching to push him upwards. He reached up to rub the back of his neck, hissing softly through his teeth when the injuries he sustained in the last mission throbbed angrily.

"Boss," Squalo started forward, but Xanxus held up a hand to stop him.

"I'm fine. Tell me everything you know about the Winncott _famiglia_." He shifted against the couch, throwing his legs over the side and picking up the half-glass of alcohol, swirling it a bit before tossing it back. While Squalo rattled off facts and numbers, he drank himself into the familiar half-buzzed state that allowed him to go outside and not decimate entire blocks right off the bat. When he was satisfied with the fuzzy form of the room around him, he called Squalo to a halt and said, "Send Lussuria over to give them a warning. Tell them to keep out of our territory; I don't need any drug peddlers in my sights."

Considering what the Varia was, this might have seemed an odd statement to anyone else. But what most didn't know, and really never bothered to learn was that most of Italy's children were found in Varia's territory, and while Xanxus didn't go out of his way to help keep the little shits from offing themselves, he did do everything in his power to make sure they didn't end up in whorehouses or slave auctions. And if the drug dealers came into town, both of those things were very likely to happen.

Squalo, aware of this knowledge, nodded and bowed sharply, then turned and prepared to leave. Just as his hand touched the door though, Xanxus called out, "You said you had a request too, shark. What is it?"

The swordsman paused, turning back to his leader. "Don't go to the main house, Boss. Please."

The scarred man raised an eyebrow. The fact that Squalo was _requesting _him not to go, rather than ordering, and doing so in a quiet tone meant serious things. "What are you feeling, shark?"

"Trouble." The man grimaced, something uncertain flashing across those eyes of his. Like the surface of a clear pond, Squalo's eyes often reflected his more emotional thoughts. It was what made conversation between the two so easy – because Xanxus could read the man at a glance, just like Squalo could read him. "Not the small sort, either."

The old man had requested Xanxus spend a few days at the main house in Catania in celebration of Enrico's anniversary of becoming Vongola Decimo. He hadn't wanted to go, especially given how smug Enrico seemed to be, but the old man had pressed him, insisting he could even bring Squalo along. It was a rare opportunity – especially since Enrico had all but banned the Varia from the main house, insisting they weren't needed at all. Enrico might have been Decimo, but his word still did not trump Timoteo's.

It wasn't surprising then, to hear such things from Squalo. What _did _surprise him was his right hand's intuition that it wouldn't be some small fight between brothers. "Explain," he ordered shortly.

"I can't, Boss. Believe me, I want to – but I just know somehow that this isn't going to end up well if you go. My gut's been howling for two days, and now my sword arm's acting up. It's bad news, I tell you. Real bad news." He was referring to what most of the Varia had coined as 'Squalo's survival instinct' – whenever his sword arm began to ache, it was almost certain that something big was going to go down. And if his gut had been squirming for the past two days in addition? _Get out of town._

Clicking his tongue in irritation, Xanxus leaned back against the warm velvet, hand coming up to rub at the prominent X-shaped scar on his face. "Alright then shark, get the shitty old man on the line. If that fucking arm of yours is acting up that fucking bad, I won't budge, alright?"

Squalo let out a silent breath he wasn't aware he had been holding. "Thanks, Boss."

"Don't thank me yet, trash. This tango has only just begun." He accepted the phone Squalo handed him, putting it to his ear and holding it with his shoulder. As he listened to it ring, he considered the possibilities of what could be going on to make waves at the main house. More than likely whatever it was would end in bloodshed, he thought idly. Enrico was nothing but a bully that enjoyed strong-arming his allies into submission. He had been like that ever since Xanxus had shown up, smug and so cocky in his power. Needless to say, there had been more than one occasion when all the Varia leader had wanted to do was knock him on his ass.

There was a click, and than a voice. _"Hello?"_

He recognized the voice as Sumi, Enrico's right hand and Sun Guardian. "Connect me to the Ninth."

"_Who is this?" _Her voice turned haughty, and Xanxus rolled his eyes, looking over at Squalo and mouthing 'the bitch picked up'. Squalo rolled his own eyes and shook his head. Everyone knew Enrico had incompetent Guardians that were too full of themselves to do anything except act like the badasses they weren't and kiss the asses of the Ninth's Guardians (who also hated them) and the Commission.

"It's Xanxus of the Varia. Connect me to the Ninth."

There was a brief pause, and when her voice came back it was full of that cool, refined tone. _"I was ordered not to allow you-"_

That did it. Xanxus growled, the sound feral. "Are you hard of hearing, you fucking cunt? I said **connect me to the Ninth. **As it, get that fucking swelled head of yours out of your ass and _fucking put me on the Ninth's personal line._ Am I making myself clear _now _bitch?"

He could practically feel the shock oozing from the other side of the phone line, and grinned up at his lieutenant. After a moment there was a second click, and a new voice answered. _"Hello?"_

Enrico. The fucking bitch had connected him to _Enrico._"You need a new fucking Sun Guardian, because clearly your bitch doesn't have ears on her. I told her to connect me to the Ninth, not you," Xanxus snarled into the receiver. He heard the clatter of pens dropping and snorted. "What? Don't tell me I actually _shocked _the great Decimo."

"_Xanxus," _came the breathy reply. He could practically hear Enrico's heart pounding in his chest. _"You've got a lot of nerve calling us, after I **told **you-"_

"Fuck you, Enrico. The only reason I'm calling is for the old man. Now patch me through before I tell you the same thing I told that whore of a Sun Guardian."

"_My father is unavailable, Xanxus. What do you want?"_

"Nothing I intend to tell you, fuckass. Hand me over to one of the old man's Guardians than."

"_No. You either tell me, or you don't tell anyone." _

Clearly Enrico assumed Xanxus would cave, if that smug, _I always get what I want _note in his voice was anything to go by. In answer, Xanxus hung up on him and tossed the phone back to Squalo. "The shithead changed the lines, shark. Looks like we won't be telling the old man jack shit."

"Oh good. And here I was thinking this was going to be _easy _for once," Squalo grumbled, putting the phone back in the cradle.

"This is the Varia, shark trash. There's no such thing as _easy _here. You want easy, go sleep with the Vongola."

"Fuck that. They probably pay like they fight: shitty." Squalo leaned over the couch as Xanxus got himself situated again. "Besides, I already swore my life to you, stupid fucker. I'm not the type to go back on promises."

"You better not, trash. I'll take your head."

"You've already got it, why the fuck do you think I'm growing my hair out?"

Xanxus opened an eye. "Cheeky."

Squalo just grinned at him in answer. He stayed with Xanxus for the next few hours, not saying anything as he watched the rain outside and listened to the winds pick up and the trees shift. With his right hand there to watch over him, Xanxus finally felt safe enough to drop into darkness, and let his mind go numb for a time. As always however, he remained tense even in his sleep, triggered to react to even the smallest disturbance. It was a defense born of years of sleeping in the streets, and later on, the mafia. Between his own body and Squalo, it would take quite a lot of work for anyone to put him down. Assuming the rest of the Varia wouldn't get rid of the problem first.

It just went to show that picking up a crew of bloodthirsty murderers, fighters and tacticians and making them swear complete and utter loyalty to him had been the right option after all.

* * *

From the spot where the driver had dropped him off, Tsuna took two alleyway shortcuts to the airport, pausing only briefly when the heat from before flared and warned him against darting out. A group of men in suits ran by, talking in low voices to one another as they did. Tsuna waited until they were gone before crossing the street.

According to the paper, a blond man in green camo with a 01 pinned to his headband was supposed to be here, waiting near a private jet that would take him out of Japan and into Italy. Tsuna kept moving as he looked, feeling periodical flare-ups from the heat and carefully sticking to the shadows to avoid any unwanted attention. It worked well enough, at least until Tsuna reached an open area where the crowds were a bit too thin for his liking.

"There he is!"

"By order of Vongola Decimo, stop!"

The clamor of footsteps behind him told him he needed to pick up the pace. Fortunately his helper made himself known then; shots rang out, and claws dug into the back of his neck, picking him up and _flying _him towards an innocent-looking jet, where a blond baby in green camo with a black 01 pinned to his headband sat, shooting a gun. "Inside, kora!"

As shocking a sight as that was, he didn't argue with the baby (Tsuna didn't actually think it was _just _a baby – babies didn't talk like adults, and they definitely didn't shoot guns) and scurried inside, throwing himself on the opposite end of the jet and leaving plenty of room for the child to manuver back if he needed to. That didn't seem to be the case however, because two more shots were fired and then he was jumping (bouncing would be a more apt description) into the jet, door slamming shut behind him. "Go, kora!" he barked to the front of the jet.

Once they were in the air, the baby turned his attention to Tsuna. "And _you, _kora, where the hell were you?" It was clear he was angry; Tsuna couldn't exactly fault him, given what had just happened.

"I-I got hung up, b-back at the alleyways. I had to hide for a little while. I-I'm very sorry for not coming sooner." He bowed his head, only to yelp when a hand smacked it, forcing him to look up. The same hand grabbed him by the chin, and he found himself looking straight into a pair of aquamarine eyes. Once again, he found himself under the grip of a power that was not his own, but unlike the chill of the driver's power, this felt like water rushing over him. Tsuna knew if he wanted to, he could burn the water away – but he wanted to see what would happen if he chose not to.

So he forced back the urge, and held still, holding the child's gaze and examining as he was examined in turn. The child, for all his small size, had a sort of weight to him that made Tsuna think he'd seen a lot in his years. There was also a shadow behind his eyes, like the weight of a great age or cursed wisdom. Seeing that made him realize that this was not a child, not a baby he was facing, but a _man._ And when put side by side to one another, Tsuna knew he was practically worthless compared to this man. He lowered his gaze.

The other smiled kindly as if he had sensed Tsuna's thoughts, and ruffled his hair. "You're a good kid, Sawada. I can see why Iemitsu talked about you so much, kora." The blond let go of his chin, and Tsuna raised up, rolling his shoulders.

"You knew my dad?"

"Ah, we worked together for a number of years."

Tsuna's mind went back to the discussions about his father's co-workers. "Are you... Lal Mirch?"

The other stared at him in shock for a minute before he burst out laughing. The sound startled the brunette, although he was quickly left confused as the blond rolled around, tears of mirth coming out of his eyes as he clutched his stomach. "O-oh god! W-w-wait 'till I tell her t-t...that I-Iemitsu's k-kid thought sh-she was a boy!"

Horror quickly dawned. "Wait, Lal Mirch is a _girl?_" All this time, the name had honestly sounded like a boy's name to him. _I'm never going to live this down, _he thought as he buried his face in his hands, cheeks red, _this is so embarrassing! _"I-I didn't... I mean, I thought-"

"I-it's okay, k-kora," the blond coughed, his laughter reduced to snickers now. He wiped the tears out of his eyes. "It's not the first time, w-won't be the last."

"Still..." Tsuna mumbled. To have spent all those years accidentally mislabeling someone his father had worked with... _I should have asked for details. When in doubt, __**ask for details.**_"S-so you're Colonnello, then?"

"Yep, kora." The blond straightened. "Colonnello, former CEDEF agent and current protector of Mafia Land, at your service."

"Eh? Mafia Land? CEDEF?"

Colonnello looked surprised. "Your old man didn't tell you?"

Tsuna began to suspect he was missing something. "Didn't tell me what?"

The blond's surprised morphed into shock, his jaw dropping. "You're _joking._"

Tsuna shook his head. Colonnello cursed, taking his headband and throwing it down. "That..that..._idiota!_ Does he have any idea what he's done?! _In tutti i miei anni come Arcobaleno, non ho mai sentito di qualcuno che fa qualcosa di così stupido!"_

"Um," Tsuna said, feeling very confused now, "Mr. Colonnello sir, I don't understand what you're saying."

Colonnello whirled on him, and Tsuna couldn't stop himself from flinching. "One, don't call me 'Mr.', I'm not that old. Two, I was speaking in Italian, trust me its for the better. Three, your father has just thrown you face-first into the deep end of the pool with no fucking life vest in sight."

Tsuna felt the color drain from his face as his worst fears suddenly came true. "W-why?"

"Hell if I know! I honestly thought all this time you fucking _knew _about him, what he used to do... you knew mine and Lal's names, for Christ's sake!"

"He-he told me stories when he came home, a-about the other workers at the corporate office he worked at," Tsuna whispered, his throat suddenly refusing to cooperate.

Colonnello stared at him in something like disgust. "_Corporate office?"_

"Y-yes. I-isn't that what you do?"

The blond closed his eyes, hand coming up to rub at his temples. "Oh my god. Iemitsu, what have you _done..._"

There was a long pause, Tsuna sitting quietly and trying to let Colonnello get his bearings, while Colonnello just muttered under his breath and rubbed his face. Finally he spoke, in a voice that was shaky and grim.

"Kid, you are so fucking unfortunate, its not even funny. Right now, Iemitsu is at the highest he's ever been on my shitlist, but you're a damn good kid so you deserve to know the truth." He looked up, and Tsuna found himself pinned underneath the sharp gaze again. "We've got eleven hours worth of flying to do, and I'm going to make sure you know _exactly _what your old man used to do, and what kind of unfortunate fate you've been met with."

He nodded to the seat across from his own. "Sit. I'll order us some water and food, and then we'll get started. We've got a lot to cover in a short amount of time, kora."

* * *

If there was one thing to be said about the Vongola, it was that they were fucking _persistent. _Even after being told to fuck off, hung up on and basically ignored, Enrico continued to pester Xanxus for the rest of the evening, and late into the night. And if not him, then one of his bitches did it for him. It was enough to drive a man batty; fortunately it had already been accepted that the Varia were about as insane as they could get without going rabid.

Currently, the Guardians were in Xanxus' office, gathered around the telephone, taking bets about how long it would be until the next call and who would be on the other line.

"Alright, in ten minutes, Sumi. It's gotta be her, because Jasper just called," Levi said.

"Shishishi~ Five minutes, and it's Enoch. I'm right because I'm a prince."

"Vooi, don't you fuckers pay attention? Twenty minutes and it'll be Samson!"

Needless to say, the Varia were thoroughly enjoying themselves. Xanxus was amused over the fact that Enrico's holier-than-thou attitude had quickly become a royal joke around the estate, and the Varia were quick to gather whenever he spoke, just to see what they could mock him for. Not even the lower-level mooks had any respect for him, although the Vongola certainly did.

The phone rang, and everyone jumped and reached for it at once. When the first punch was thrown, Xanxus lazily reached into the middle of the fight and picked up the receiver, putting it to his ear.

"Enrico, unless you want me to come down there personally and rip you a new asshole, I suggest you stop calling me."

"_...Well I must admit, that's certainly not the traditional greeting, but hello to you too, Xanxus. Glad to see you're feeling well. How are the Varia doing?"_

The scarred man twitched a bit straighter, snapping his fingers and slicing his hand through the air, silencing the squabbling group. He mouthed '_it's the Ninth_' and pointed towards the door. A couple of groans met his order, but everyone left save for Squalo, who prowled up and leaned close so he could hear what the old man was saying. "The fuckers are fine; I've been trying to get a hold of you. Your little shit Decimo changed the phone lines again, old man."

"_Yes, so Coyote made me aware." _There was a level of ire in his voice that was on par with the one Xanxus had heard in his early childhood under the man, when he was dealing with incompetent bosses who didn't know their ass from a hole in the ground. _"I apologize, Xanxus."_

"Don't apologize for the workings of trash, old man. I hate you for what you did to me, not for what they're doing," he growled. Although even that hate was turning cool; while the betrayal was still painful, he understood why the man had done it. _But that doesn't make it alright, _his Wrath whispered in his ear. Xanxus ignored it. "I take it that fucker didn't tell you anything."

"_He mentioned that you were desperate to talk to me about something, and went against his orders again." _The Ninth sounded rather cheerful on the last bit. Xanxus snorted.

"What can I say, old man, that whore and his bitches just don't inspire the kind of confidence I need to make me want to follow them. I'm just not the suicidal type." He smirked when Squalo snickered beside him.

"_Oh by all means my boy, you don't need to justify yourself to me. Believe me, my Guardians have filled my ears with enough tales to let me know **exactly **what's going on. Perhaps in the future the Varia will realign themselves with us, but for now our houses will remain separate."_

Xanxus felt his smirk fall a bit. With Enrico's leadership had come a splitting of the houses – those who felt that Enrico couldn't lead for shit and would doom the Vongola to their final resting place went with the Varia, while those who felt he was the best thing since sliced bread went with the Vongola. After listening to Enrico bitch about Xanxus stealing all his prospective candidates for Family, the Varia had pretty much packed up, said, "Fuck this noise" and proceeded to relocate themselves and their main house down as far away from Catania as they possibly could while still remaining in their own territory.

Even after such a blatant split however, Enrico still had the balls to have someone call them up and demand they do work, or send files over. Needless to say, most of the files ended up in the shredder, and the phone calls were blocked, ignored or the phone thrown out. The only orders the Varia followed were the Ninth's – which were coming in slower and fewer every time. With his death would come the temporary hiatus of the Varia, who would remain their own separate Family until such a time that the Vongola gained a competent leader again.

It was a depressing state of affairs, but that's what happened when a spoiled idiot was made king. Xanxus had honestly expected _something _to come out of the hitman's training, but apparently not.

"_Anyway, getting back to the matter at hand. What is it you wanted to talk to me about?"_

"I won't be coming to the celebration, old man. The fucking shark's arm is acting up, and I'm not taking a chance."

"_I see." _Nono was aware of Squalo's mysterious sixth sense and Xanxus' trust in it. _"Well, its a shame, but considering recent events I can't say I blame you. I'll have one of the Guardians send you a gift basket anyway, to make up for it."_

"Hold up old man. What do you mean, 'recent events'? Just what the fuck's going on over there?"

"_Ah... Enrico put down a set of orders I'm afraid that most of us disagreed with." _Xanxus jerked back a bit to stare at the phone at the sheer sound of _rage _in the elder's tone. _"He refused to follow protocol for once, and the Commission is rather upset about it."_

"In other words, got nothing to do with us."

"_Indeed. I'm terribly sorry my boy, but I must be going now. Enrico is banging on my door, and I fear if I have to listen to him whining anymore I might very well snap his neck and let Federico succeed the throne."_

Xanxus couldn't help but laughing a bit at that. Even at his old age, Nono could still kick ass. "Give 'em hell, old man."

"_But of course."_

The call cut off then, and Squalo pulled back, an amused smirk on his face. "Well," he said, "that certainly was interesting."

"In more ways than one. Nobody fucks over the Commission and gets away with it." Unlike the Vendice, who were the keepers of the law, the Commission was a group of advisers and former bosses dedicated to the peace between the Families. They gave permission when the bosses needed to do something in another _famiglia's _territory, and they also gave the final vote where heirs were concerned. Spitting in their eye was generally not advised if one wanted to run a prospective _famiglia. _The fact that Enrico was doing so didn't bode well for the future of the Vongola at all.

"Get me a drink, shark trash. This day has been fucking long, and just keeps getting longer." He rubbed at his eyes, feeling the incoming migraine that the last bout of alcohol had shoved aside some hours ago. "Well, I think its safe to say our popularity just skyrocketed."

Squalo handed over the shotglass full of bourbon. "Looks that way. Think its enough to keep our fingers crossed for a potential fruit basket this year?"

His sarcasm was contagious. "Those fuckers better remember I don't like fucking pineapples."

His right arm rolled his eyes and sprawled out on the leather seat beside him. "Nobody likes pineapples boss, they're a fucking weird-ass fruit with no purpose."

"Damn straight. Hand me another glass, shark trash."

* * *

People often said that flew when you were having fun, but never had Tsuna equated such an innocent saying to such a morbid chapter of his life before. With Colonnello's words as his guide and the vivid imagery of his mind the movie screen, the last eleven hours had gone by too fast for Tsuna's liking. All too soon he was stumbling on shaky limbs out of the jet, and through twisted, crowded streets ripe with old architecture and signs in a language he hadn't known before but knew _now, _thanks to one little pill Colonnello had made him swallow halfway through discussing the Flood of Blood incident in graphic, horrifying detail.

His father was a made mafia man; back when Tsuna had been a child, he had made the decision to quit the CEDEF, which was apparently an intelligence agency that worked alongside the main house, known as Vongola – who were also the same people that were currently hunting Tsuna for reasons unknown. Colonnello had said that they shouldn't have even known where the house _was, _because the right to privacy once you retired was one thing the Vongola had honored above all else. But now this new leader had come along, and everything was hitting the fan at once. It was all so confusing, and so utterly terrifying that Tsuna longed to turn tail and run back home into the safety of his father's arms, where he knew he would be protected and loved.

But his father had made him promise not to stop, and so despite the increasing horror and fear welling up inside of him like a snake, Tsuna pushed on to his final destination. A little cafe named Blue Moon would be where his final contact would be waiting for him – according to Colonnello, it would be none other than Lal Mirch who guided him into the Varia's territory.

"_She's good at what she does, even if she's scary at times. If she tells you to duck, you duck and run like hell, kora. She's my size, so look down, not up."_

So that's what Tsuna was doing, looking down instead of up, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck prickle as he did so. He finally found her, sitting at the very far end of the cafe, drumming small fingers impatiently against the table in a sign of agitation. "Um, excuse me, Lal Mirch?"

Angry eyes found his. She looked him up and down in one quick movement, curling her lip in distaste at what she found. "Who's asking?"

"S-sawada Tsunayoshi, ma'am. Colonnello sent me."

"It's about time you got here. Any longer, and I would have left." She stood, throwing a couple of bills on the table and turning, heading into a dark alleyway. "Let's go, shrimp."

"Y-yes ma'am." Without any hesitation, Tsuna followed. The end of his journey was near, and his meeting with this mysterious man – Xanxus – would soon follow. What kind of man was he, Tsuna wondered, and what about the group he led? Colonnello had avoided the subject, and almost seemed to flinch every time Tsuna reminded him he would be putting himself in their hands.

As they rushed down dark alleyways, regularly stopping when voices caught their ear or the sound of footsteps came too close, Tsuna sent a prayer to the heavens.

_Please, let this be the right choice._

* * *

The phone was ringing again.

Xanxus glared at it, and then back to the clock on the nearby wall that read 4:20 AM in bright blue numbering. Groaning, he reached for the phone, and put it to his ear. He expected the Ninth, maybe Enrico with a threat or one of his Guardians. The voice he got however, chilled his blood and raised his hackles. "Varia residence."

"_Hello Varia leader Xanxus."_

Suddenly he wasn't so sleepy anymore, although he was pissed. "You fucker. You've got **balls **to call me."

"_I'm aware. But I'm not here on a friendly call."_

"You're aware Mammon fucking hates your guts, right? I could just as easily give him the phone, and let him hunt you down. I bet he'd enjoy that." The grin he gave was savage and cold. He knew the other would see it, even through the phone.

"_But if you do that, you might lose your ace in the hole that I'm about to offer you. Free of charge, no less."_

Everything stopped. Xanxus felt the cogs in his head slow down, and pull back. "What are you talking about?"

"_There is a child entering your territory, Varia leader. A small, brunette boy that I and two others have risked life and limb to get to you. The Vongola wants him for reasons I shan't disclose."_

"Then why the fuck should I care? There are a million brunette brats running around my streets, you fucker."

"_Indeed, but this one is special. He is unique, and he is looking for **you. **If you let him go, then by all means. But be aware that this is the very last chance I'm offering – the **only **chance, not only for your precious Mammon, but for you, as well."_

Xanxus felt his heart pounding, his intuition howling at him to find the address, find the child. "Go on."

"_He has the power of change. But he needs a safe haven to make that change. He is seeking protection under the Law of Sanctuary. If you grant it to him, things could very well begin turning in your favor. And perhaps with time, Mammon's as well."_

He stood, grabbing his jacket. "Let's assume this fucking kid of your exists. Let's assume that I buy this story of this special kid. Let's assume I want to see him, to meet him. Where do I go?"

A rich chuckle. _"Why Xanxus, don't you know? He's right outside, in the town square."_

And the line went dead.

* * *

**AN**

"Spostarsi" means to _move _or _travel._

_In tutti i miei anni come Arcobaleno, non ho mai sentito di qualcuno che fa qualcosa di così stupido! - _In all my years as an Arcobaleno, I've never heard of anyone doing anything so stupid! (The translator okayed it, but please correct me if I'm wrong.)

Hey look! It's not even a full chapter after Iemitsu's demise and he's already gone back to being a bad father. Hooray for idiotic blond fathers forgetting to tell their children about life-threatening decisions like being in the mafia! -slow clap- And the mystery caller strikes again. Don't worry folks; if you haven't figured out who it is yet (its not Viper) you'll know later on in the story, when the identity will come to light.

In regards to Colonnello's missing '-kora's', I've known people who lose their speech impediments/tics when they get excited or passionate about something. I figured it would depend on Colonnello's state of mind, whether the tic would appear more often or less often. When he's upset or angry, it vanishes, and when he's excited, nervous or happy, it appears more often.


	3. Refuge

"**Rifugio"**

"_A nightingale in a golden cage, that's me locked inside reality's maze. Come someone make my heavy heart light, come undone bring me back to life." - _Nightwish, The Escapist

* * *

Morning moved fast across Italy – too fast for Lal's liking. Behind her, the idiot boy struggled and somehow managed to keep up. Gritting her teeth, Lal reigned in the comments she longed to throw over her shoulder about the boy being weak and wimpy. Iemitsu had begged her to get the kid to the Varia's doorstep, and that's what she would do, even if it killed her. She just wished that blond idiot had given her more information on _why _he needed to abandon his offspring in Italy instead of just grabbing the kid and shoving off his own self.

Colonnello didn't have anymore information than she did, for all that he'd been right beside her when the call came in. The fact that it had been on a secure line wasn't nearly as alarming as it should have been – Iemitsu was known for his paranoid tendencies, and Lal seriously doubted those tendencies had just _vanished _with retirement. What _was _alarming though was that when Lal had mentioned messaging him when the job was done, he had chuckled humorlessly and said something that still chilled her to the bone.

"_A dead man doesn't need to know when the job is done, Lal. Just get Tsuna to safety."_

Lal had her suspicions, but she wasn't going to start casting bets just yet. Especially not with the way the damn Vongola had been acting lately. _If this turns out to be a case of mistaken identity, I will __**murder**__ someone. _

A sudden sound caught her ear, and she turned just in time to see one of Vongola's mind turn the corner. He spotted them, and gave a yell. Lal cursed as more rounded the corner and pulled guns, shooting at them.

"_Run, brat!_" She bellowed. To the kid's credit, he didn't freeze up as others his age would have done; instead he went full-tilt and started barreling through alleyways and streets. Lal covered him from behind, easily taking out three of the men as they started coming after her. Two more stupidly stopped to reload, and she took them out too before getting in front of the kid. "This way!"

She led him down a labyrinthine path of twists and turns, shoving him into a corner once they had gotten far enough ahead. Both froze, not even daring to breath as the remaining six men ran right past them into the town square. They all stopped at the entrance, looking around. Lal took a deep breath, preparing to do something about it-

Only to feel herself tense as a massive ball of angry flames suddenly collided with the group, burning them alive. She watched as their skin charred, screams emitting into the air around them. Eventually even those stopped, and there was nothing left but a pile of ash that had once been flesh. It was only after it was all over that she thought to cover the kid's eyes – she cursed as she realized he would probably be scarred for life.

Except when she turned to look at him, he wasn't. Instead, he had an almost serene expression on his face, his eyes a muted gold. Lal looked from him to the charred bodies, and felt realization hit. _Looks like this is where I get off. _

Hoping off his shoulder, she pushed his leg. When he looked down, she nodded towards the entrance. "Get going, brat."

He didn't need telling twice. Maybe that was fortunate, but all she could think as he walked to the entrance was that she had sent him to his death. Still, it was no longer her concern; she had fulfilled her part of the contract. _Now to get Iemitsu on the line and figure out what the hell is going on._

* * *

_Power._

That was all Tsuna could think as he watched the flames lick at the men's bodies, eating through their skin like it was just another layer of clothing. He should have felt revulsion at looking at such a scene, at hearing the screams as the men were quite literally burned alive – but all he felt was awe. Awe and a sense of belonging, because the flame's creator stood just beyond the entryway, waiting patiently like a predator waiting for his prey. Tsuna didn't know anything about him – only that he was strong.

And so when Lal Mirch pushed him and told him to go, he did. Because even as the edge of power went away, he could feel the pulse of warmth in the air, so much like his own that it made him ache. There was a kindred spirit lurking beyond the gates, and Tsuna wanted to meet him. He wasn't prepared for what he saw when he rounded the corner, and he found himself shivering, the heat inside of him flaring once before dying down to a mere pinprick.

The man standing on the other side of the gate, watching him, was the very embodiment of fire and death itself. He held himself like a king, but he watched Tsuna like a lion watching its next kill. The heat around him made Tsuna shiver, and as he moved closer it pressed down on him, enveloping him until Tsuna was almost sure that there were actually sharp, lethal teeth around his neck, ready to snap at the slightest wrong move he made.

This was the man his father had sent him to. _Xanxus. _The name tasted like ash on his tongue, bitter and harsh. Tsuna kept his head bowed as he approached, and when he was ten steps away, he knelt, offering up the envelope in silence. Xanxus nodded to one of the men beside him, a silver-haired man who took the envelope with two fingers and sliced it open before handing it over to Xanxus.

There was silence as the man's red eyes darted along the lines, taking in all the note had to offer. When he was done, the note burst into flame between his fingers. Tsuna felt a little shiver of awe creep down his spine, but made no attempt to speak or raise his head. He wasn't stupid enough to challenge a man like this in his own territory.

Xanxus spoke, soft and raw and _lethal_. "Why are you here, boy?"

Tsuna didn't raise his head, but he answered just as softy. "I request protection from the Vongola under the Law of Sanctuary."

There came a hiss from those around the man, but Tsuna still didn't look up. He could feel the burning weight of the man's gaze on him, and it took everything he had not to quiver.

* * *

The boy was a complete and utter surprise. He was also a Flame user. Xanxus felt him long before he saw the boy, and he had been expecting a fight, which was why Xanxus had made a show of his power. Oh, he easily could have dispatched the men with a few bullets or had Bel do it, but the prickle of the boy's power against his own had made him feel threatened, and so he'd lashed out. And then the boy had rounded the corner, and Xanxus had set himself up, ready for the first lunge. But the kid hadn't lunged – he'd looked at Xanxus once and bowed his head in submission. His Will had flared once and dwindled down until it was nothing but a little flicker.

Never before had Xanxus seen such a complete show of submission, and from a stranger no less. His temper, previously tipping towards the sharp end of the scale, had been sated by the show, and it remained so when the boy kept his posture submissive, bowing his head and not saying a word. If Xanxus didn't know better, he'd almost think the boy knew what he was doing, knew the procedures of the mafia world.

The note he offered was short, and to the point.

_Varia Leader Xanxus,_

_The boy before you is being hunted by the Vongola for reasons beyond his control. I would ask that you allow him sanctuary. He is no threat to you and yours, and will obey any order you give. All he asks in return is protection from the Vongola, and a place to stay for a few days until he can get back on his feet._

There had been no sign of who it came from, which coupled with the boy's Flame was rather suspicious. But Xanxus knew instinctively that the boy wasn't a spy from another _familgia, _and that this wasn't some game being played for the amusement of another. This was as real as it would ever get, and Xanxus needed to act accordingly, before his men started bristling more than they already were.

He hadn't bothered to tell them about the call from _that _bastard, or even why he suddenly needed them up and ready to head out to the town square. By now most of them (save Levi and occasionally Bel) had learned not to question their leader when he wanted something. And right now what he wanted was this boy in his possession, under his thumb where he could control him.

"Why are you here, boy?" he asked.

The boy didn't raise his head. Smart kid. "I request protection from the Vongola under the Law of Sanctuary."

If the hisses and growls from his men were anything to go by, the Varia members didn't like the idea. But Xanxus narrowed his gaze, looking down at the boy who had come to him with nothing, and was being hunted by the Vongola. The note had mentioned 'reasons beyond his control', which probably meant his parents had done something stupid and the kid was being killed in exchange.

_Enrico's being a coward again, I see. _The mafia might not have been particularly kind to children, but Vongola was one of the _famiglias _that didn't lash out against them when their parents did something stupid. Adults took care of adult business, and the kids went off and played. That was the rule. Was this the 'rule breaking' Nono had been talking about earlier? If so, no wonder the Commission was pissed. Xanxus was pissed too, now that he thought about it.

But there was a good side to go with all this bad. If Xanxus took this kid in, agreed to the Law of Sanctuary (which the Varia didn't _technically _have to carry out, as they didn't count as a _familgia _on their own) not only would it piss Enrico off, it would register to the entirety of the mafia world that the Varia was picking up on the slack the Vongola was leaving. Vongola might die, but the Varia would rise. The kid would get his protection, Enrico would be furious and Xanxus would get a few new alliances out of it. Everybody won.

"Request granted, brat. Raise your head," Xanxus barked, ignoring the sudden wave of shock aimed in his direction. Squalo was looking between him and the brat, clearly trying to piece the _why _and _what _together. If the shark was smart, he'd figure it out without Xanxus having to tell him anything. He looked over at the others, and took in the expressions – Bel looked horribly amused, Levi looked just plain pissed, Mammon had his usual poker face on, while Lussuria merely looked curious. "You fuckers," he barked at the Varia, "**Don't fucking touch him.**"

"But Boss-!" Levi started, only to receive an elbow in the gut courtesy of Lussuria, who smiled charmingly at the boy.

"Ignore him, dear. He'll argue with a brick wall, if given a chance." And by that he meant _he's an idiot, and you should ignore him. _Xanxus watched in amusement as the kid smiled a little and nodded, clearly hearing the words not said.

_At least he's not a fucking moron. Thank god for that. _"Let's go already. The Vongola won't wait around while you talk, ladies."

The kid looked embarrassed while Lussuria just took it like the compliment it was. Xanxus turned and led them back towards home, the Varia instinctively forming a circle around the smaller brat, who was intelligent enough to stay behind Xanxus but not on his heels. Squalo bellowed at the idiots on the other side to open the damn doors, and they wordlessly strode inside, the rest of the Varia save Squalo each going off in their own direction as Xanxus led the kid to his office for orders.

The kid said nothing while Xanxus tossed his jacket aside and laid his guns down, nor did he attempt to sit anywhere without being told. He stood in the corner out of everyone's way while Squalo got Xanxus situated, and it was only when he beckoned the boy over that he moved.

Under the chilly light of the rising sun, Xanxus could set the bits of dirt and grime stuck to him, as well as the eerie golden color settled behind his eyes. A sure sign that he was going off the calm provided by his Hyper Intuition, rather than the calm of accepting his fate. But there would be time for that later. He leaned back on his throne, a shot glass full of bourbon in his hands, and looked the boy over carefully. He could see where the muscles on the kid's body were, where they had yet to grow, and which parts of him would be handy _now _rather than later. After slamming the glass of bourbon back, he spoke.

"Name, brat."

"Sawada Tsunayoshi, sir."

"Tsuna, then." The kid's name was too much of a mouthful. And who the fuck named their kid _Tsunayoshi? _"Or do you go by Yoshi?"

"Whatever suits you, sir."

Xanxus let a grin out. "You're smarter than you look, brat." The boy silently inclined his head to the compliment. The grin dropped. "But not smart enough to outrun the Vongola. So here's the deal: in exchange for you living, eating and sleeping here, you'll work. We don't have time to go around cleaning our own shit – we're assassins, not maids or butlers. And we don't waste money paying people to do shit jobs like cleaning. So as of now, you're our cleaning crew.

You clean everything in the manor – and I do mean _everything, _brat, and in exchange we'll save your ass if the Vongola come knocking, feed, water, and house you. You buy your own clothes out of jobs you get that _I _approve of, as well as anything else you need. Breakfast is whenever the fuck you want it to be, but dinner is at seven sharp and you _will _be present. Except for that your only job is to stay the fuck out of our way and make sure things don't go to hell around here when one of us, or _all _of us, is gone. When we leave, you're in charge as head butler. That means the remaining idiots will stay out of your way and won't interfere. They give you shit, you either tell the shitty shark over there," he pointed to Squalo, "or you handle it yourself."

There was a moment of silence as the kid took in everything Xanxus had just said, before nodding. "I understand, sir."

"Good. But that's not the end of it. On top of cleaning the house, you do laundry, handle messages – Squalo will give you a walk around the important areas of the house, so _pay attention –_ and any other minor detail that needs doing around here. Do you understand, brat?"

The boy bowed. "I do, sir."

"Good." Content that things had been taken care of, he flicked his gaze over to Squalo. "Get the kid some of the old uniforms to wear around the house, and send word through the ranks that _nobody _fucking bothers him. Anyone who does can answer to me. Answer his questions and get him set up. Then get your shark ass back here. I can only imagine Enrico's going to call to bitch about his dead men in my territory, and I need back up."

"Yes boss. C'mon squirt," Squalo called. Tsuna bowed once more to Xanxus before turning and following Squalo out of the room.

* * *

The man named Squalo turned out to be the biggest help Tsuna had ever come across. He was also painfully honest, and didn't beat around the bush, which Tsuna liked even if it was insulting a couple of times. Squalo told him flat-out that he didn't know why boss (that was his name for Xanxus) had picked him up off the streets, but such a sign meant that he had better work his _ass _off to repay the debt, as such things didn't come cheap. Tsuna had told him he was aware of this, as Xanxus didn't seem the type to just go picking kids up off the street. Squalo laughed at that, and told him he was right. From there they bounced to answering questions, and Tsuna made sure to ask important ones only and take note of all the spots he needed to know of.

Most of the upper floors were off-limits to him, but the first and second floors were in dire need of cleaning, as they were the ones most often used. Men came in all the time tracking dirt and blood and whatever else across the floors, and rather than deal with it most of the Varia had just thrown rugs and such down over the worst spots and called it clean. Squalo confessed that he'd probably need a gas mask and some heavy duty gloves – both of which they had – before he even thought about tackling the upholstery, which was just _terrifying. _

"And for god's sake, don't stick your hand under the couch cushions. There's no telling what you'll find under there, and I don't need you losing a hand to a tentacle monster or something like that."

Tsuna nodded, thinking about how Squalo's estimate wasn't that far off – he was pretty sure he'd seen something _move _under those cushions, and he wasn't putting his limbs anywhere near it until he was sure it was only a trick of his mind.

Introductions to the rest of the Varia captains were made shortly thereafter. "Xanxus is our boss, so what he says goes, although I don't think I need to tell you that. He's also our Sky, which is pretty fucking important. I'm his right hand, and commander of the Rain Squad. You have a questions about swords or Rain-attributed weapons, you ask me. Belphagor's the Storm, and he's actually a Prince. Yeah, hard to believe he's not just fucking around with us. Don't ask any unnecessary questions, address him as "Your Highness" and you'll come out in one piece.

Mammon is an Esper, he's also our Mist Guardian, so he can pretty much fuck with your head however he pleases. Don't piss him off and for god sakes' don't touch his money. Lussuria is the resident homo, he's also an expert at Muay Thai – I expect he'll tell you about it if you ask nicely enough. He's also our Sun, which means if you break something or nearly kill yourself, your best bet is going to him. Just don't expect any sympathy. If he flirts with you, and you don't feel comfortable with it, tell him and he'll stop." Squalo paused, looking around. "I think that's everyone."

"What about me?!" A voice cried. Squalo and Tsuna looked over to see a dark haired man with umbrellas on his back standing there. Squalo blinked at him a couple times and then turned back to Tsuna.

"That's the Lightning Guardian Levi. He's an idiot that masturbates to pictures of boss on a regular basis. Don't get near him or you'll catch his stupid."

"_Hey!"_

"So, end of the road shrimp. Any last questions before I toss you into the deep end of the pool and let you sink or swim?"

Tsuna thought carefully. "Just one. What did you mean when you mentioned Sky, Rain, and all those?"

Squalo blinked, looking a little surprised. "Voi, don't you know about the Elements?"

Tsuna shook his head. Squalo sighed. "Okay, quick lesson. Basically, the Elements are an aspect of the Dying Will Flames – everyone has a different Flame based on who they are. Skies are rare, and pretty much the bosses of the bunch since their main attribute is Harmony. Rain Guardians are usually negotiators, because their attribute is Tranquility. Storm Guardians are the main attackers of any group, because their attribute is Disintegration. Suns are usually healers, although they can also be a pretty good defender since their attribute is Activation.

Mist Guardians can create something from nothing, so they're good in pretty much anything except close combat, since most of them are usually fairly weak-bodied. Their attribute is Construction. Lighting Guardians are usually the best defenders, since their attribute is Hardening. Cloud Guardians are vicious and can usually go a long time since their attribute is Propagation, so its best to stick them on the front lines and let them go." He put his hands on his hips. "Got it?"

Tsuna felt like his head was full of fluff. "Y-yes. I think so."

"Good. It doesn't matter how low on the totem pole you are, if you disgrace boss I won't forgive you. So brush up on your Flame knowledge and you'll be fine." He patted the boy's shoulder. "I've got to get back to boss now; that fuckass of a brother of his is probably on the lines already, telling him off."

"Thank you for the help!" Tsuna called after him, and received only a vague wave of the hand in reply before he rounded the corner and disappeared. Left alone again, Tsuna tried to get his thoughts straight – he'd been given a lot of information, and he needed to remember the more important bits right now. Like about the debt he'd been given. He needed to pay Xanxus and the Varia back for every last little thing they gave him, from the food to the bed, and he needed to start by cleaning this destruction zone they called a living room.

_First, I need to find the cleaning cabinet. Maybe its in the kitchen? _That's where most people put their cleaning supplies at least, and surely the Varia weren't _that _different from everyone else. _Just because they're assassins doesn't mean they aren't human. _Remembering the directions Squalo had given him, he walked into the kitchen and checked the cabinets.

He found gloves in one, a broom in another, a mop in the third and so on and so forth. _Looks like whoever used these last had no intention of putting them all in the same cupboard, _Tsuna thought with exasperation. Now all he needed was the chemicals and he could start cleaning. As he ducked down to a cabinet near the door to check, the door swung open, smacking him and sending him into the cabinet. He gave a yelp of surprise, jumping when he felt hands on his hips pulling him out.

"Oh dear, sorry about that. I wasn't expecting anyone to be in here." Multi-colored hair and sunglasses – it was the Sun Guardian, the one Squalo called Lussuria. "Are you alright, pumpkin?"

"F-fine sir, you just startled me. Sorry."

Lussuria tittered. "Don't call me 'sir', it makes me sound so old! Just call me Lussuria. And you are?" His smile was gentle, and almost contagious.

"Ah, Tsunayoshi. Or Tsuna, or Yoshi, whichever you prefer."

The man tapped his chin. "Mm, decisions, decisions. Well, I can't decide so I suppose I'll have to use both! Now, where are you off to, Yoshi darling?"

"Cleaning duty. I was going to hit the living room first-"

Lussuria waved his words aside. "No, no, that won't do. That living room will take time and effort to clean, and at your current level of expertise, you'd be dead before dinner. No, I think we'll start you off small. How about helping me clean my studio?"

Tsuna blinked. "Studio?" He tilted his head.

Lussuria resisted the urge to squeal, if only because he didn't want to scare the little poppet off. "Mm-hm. I imagine you've already heard, but I'm a hands-on sort of guy, and well, some of my opponents are sorely _lacking. _So a few of them end up in various parts of my studio. On the walls, ceiling, floor... it's all very messy, and I haven't been able to find someone to get the stains out yet."

Tsuna suddenly had a vision of himself fighting against Lussuria, only to find himself gone in a flash and the walls painted red. He shuddered. The man nodded, interpreting the gesture as disgust. "I know, horrible isn't it? So, will you help me?" He put his hands together and pushed out his lower lip in a semblance of a pout. "Pretty please~?"

"Y-you don't have to beg si- Lussuria. I'd be happy to help."

"Excellent!" The man clapped his hands together. "Then follow me, and I'll show you where you'll be working."

* * *

Lussuria's studio was located underground the Varia manor, on the first floor. As they descended, the man explained that there were levels for each Varia member, which usually consisted of training rooms, (or in Levi's case a place to hide his porn collection) or a place where they could clear their thoughts after a particularly rough mission, or even prepare themselves for upcoming missions. Tsuna found himself impressed by their dedication the more he explained, and actually found himself participating in the conversation.

"Does Xanxus have a room, as well?"

"He does, but it hasn't been used in ages. Honestly, I think he's only used it once the entire time he's lived here." Lussuria frowned as he thought it over. "Actually, I think the only time he ever goes down here is when something has either pissed him off so badly that he can't contain himself, or when he's so eager for a fight that he's restless."

"I take it either situation isn't good?"

"Mm, well that depends. Two years ago, Belphagor was ambushed and nearly killed. Now I know Xanxus doesn't look the caring sort, but the Varia are his family. We might not always be sane, but we are family. Xanxus went down here and stayed there for almost an entire day before he came back up. He left the house for about... an hour and a half, I think, and when he came back the _famiglia _that had attacked Bel was no more, and Xanxus was his usual cranky self."

Tsuna eyes were wide. "Wow," he murmured. Lussuria nodded.

"Keep that in mind. Boss _can _be cruel, but that doesn't mean he has to be. He just doesn't keep his sense of kindness in the same place most people do."

"You mean like your cleaning supplies?" Tsuna muttered, dourly looking at the implements in his arms. Lussuria stared at him for a second before suddenly bursting into a cackling laughter that put Tsuna at the other side of the elevator. "L-Lussuria? S-sir?"

"I-I'm sorry dear, I d-didn't meant to startle you, but..." Here he took a large gulp of air, lifting his glasses to swipe at his watering eyes. "Y-you've been here for a few precious moments, and you're already developing the attitude of one of our own. It's positively _adorable."_

The elevator doors opened while Tsuna stared at Lussuria in confusion, and Lussuria fought to get himself back together. He coughed a few times, cheeks pink as he led the way off the elevator, waving a hand around. "Anyway, here we are! My own little slice of heaven. I know its not much to look at, but I prefer things humble when I'm by myself."

And it _was_ humble. Tsuna found his eyes widening as he looked around. There was a thrum of positive, upbeat energy in the air, which fit in perfectly with the white walls and carpet. The furniture was all pastel colors; bring pinks, greens, yellows and oranges assaulting his eyes as he looked around. There were a couple of sitting chairs and a chaise lounge, as well as a rotating basket-like chair that hung from the ceiling with a thick chain. There was also a small footstool, a kitchenette and a false fireplace.

It was all very tidy and organized, and Tsuna couldn't help but be amazed. Lussuria had called the rooms 'getaways', but he hadn't envisioned something of this degree. It was like a home away from home, without _actually _being away from home. "It's beautiful."

Lussuria blushed. "Thank you. Sad to say I don't get to come down here very often my own self, so things might be a little dirty. Shoes off here please, I don't need you tracking things from one room to the other. Bloodstains are very hard to get out of white carpeting."

Tsuna toed off his sneakers and left them at the entrance as they entered the second room at the end of a small hallway (he found there was a bathroom here as well). Whatever happy feelings he'd had in the first room died as soon as Lussuria pushed in the right code and hit the Enter button. "And these are my training rooms! Watch your feet honey, no need to ruin your socks."

He hopped over a still-twitching body and pushed it out of the way with a foot to the forehead, before reaching out and helping Tsuna jump over the puddle of blood left behind. "Ugh, its like they don't know how to die properly. Whoever taught them in school clearly forgot to mention dying without troubling your killer. Agh, so insensitive. Don't you think, Yoshi?"

"Ah," Tsuna paused, taking in the... mess (it was too pale a word to describe what he was looking at, but he _really _didn't want to try to think of the actual word right now), "I-I'm not sure they teach that in schools anymore, Lussuria. At least, they didn't teach it when I went there."

"They didn't? Oh pooh." Huffing, the man laid his hands on his hips and looked around. On the right hand side of the room stood several sandbags, as well as a very large boxing ring. There were a couple of tables off to the side, both full of instruments and items Tsuna had never seen before. Something told him he didn't _want _to know what they were. He quickly directed his attention back to Lussuria, who had begun talking again, gesturing around as he spoke.

"I'd recommend starting on the walls and working your way down, since it won't do you any good to clean the floors and just get them dirty again later, hm? I know I have a ladder around here somewhere, for the days I have to change the light... ah, there it is!" He pointed over near one of the tables. "The smell is especially bad over by the southern wall, so I'd appreciate it if you could it that first, at least get the first layer off. I know we have more cleaning supplies around here somewhere, so I'm going to go look for those while you do this. Do you have gloves? Yes? Okay then, you have a ladder, gloves, a mop, broom... I'd better bring that shovel in here too, just in case."

Tsuna just nodded along to whatever Lussuria said, some part of his brain having long fizzled out and died. Lussuria was right he thought, the smell _was _bad over by this wall. But that's why he was going to clean it. He would scrub until the smell came out or his arms fell off, whichever came first. _I wonder if he'll give me another set if mine fall off. Maybe he'll just glue them back on. _Realizing he was being stupid now, he shook his head and took up the mop and bucket of water he'd brought with him.

"Oh, wait! Can't have you go in without something to stop you from getting sick. Let me see... yes, this will do nicely." From one of the tables, Lussuria handed him a gas mask. "There you go dear. Like I said, I'm going to go look for the rest of those supplies. Remember to scrub hard, and take a breather if the smell gets too bad! Ciao~."

And then he waltzed out of the room, once again toeing a body out of the way, and leaving Tsuna behind with a mop in his hands, a very nasty-looking wall in front of his face, and a brittle, not-quite-sure determination to get _somewhere _with the cleaning today. Pulling the gas mask over his face, Tsuna took several deep breaths, and stepped up, mop extended. Everything after that became a sort of reddish-pink blur.

As focused as he was, he didn't pay any attention to when Lussuria came back into the room and dropped off more supplies, or when he received a bigger bucket of water courtesy of a couple of grunts Lussuria called in. The two men eyed Tsuna with no small amount of respect and fear and quickly left the room. Lussuria got started on his training exercises after that, bringing out a CD player and popping in a couple of disks, one of which was a hardcore metal and the other which was a very beautiful opera in Italian. Tsuna kept scrubbing, taking small sections of the wall down bit by bit.

By the time Lussuria finally called it quits for the day, the first and second layer of gunk had been removed, and indeed, there were even spots where the white color of the wall flashed through. Unfortunately, Tsuna was also half-unconscious by the time that happened, his arms and back screaming in pain from the continuous lifting and holding of the mop, as well as his calf muscles from having to climb up and down the ladder to dump the water and then refill it. He was more than ready to climb the stairs and just go to sleep.

Fortunately, Lussuria had years on reading the human condition, and he took one look at Tsuna after toweling off after a shower and darted out to catch the boy as he nearly took a face-plant into the (admittedly soft-looking) floor. "Oh dear! You poor little thing, you've worked yourself to the bone for me."

He looked over at the wall, a tiny smile curving his face. He hadn't been sure at the beginning if the boy could really handle such a tough task, but it was clear his decision had been the right one. "And to think, you were going to tackle the living room before doing this?" he chortled, shaking his head and lifting one of the boy's legs, fingers gently running themselves over the tender muscles. "You've really strained yourself, haven't you?" A warmth bloomed between his fingers as he continued to rub, and Tsuna slowly felt the pain dull. He had a small glimmer of an idea of what Lussuria was doing, but he wasn't certain if he was right so he kept his mouth shut.

Lussuria did the same thing to his other leg, and then to both his arms before carefully lifting him up and doing the same to his back. Tsuna blinked as the heat died, shaking his head. He felt a lot better, and while he was admittedly still tired, he wasn't nearly so sore. He could still feel it though, deep down like an old bruise. "Thank you," he said.

"A hard day's work deserves an equal reward, honey. Just take caution and don't try to do any backflips or acrobatics and you'll be fine, hm?" The man winked at him, laughing when Tsuna flushed. "Oh, you are just so cute! But a little young for my tastes. Still, you've manners, and that's good enough for me." He helped Tsuna up from the floor, handing him his shoes. "Now, what do you say to some nice hot dinner? The boys upstairs are probably rioting. Normally I'd be in the kitchen by now."

While there was no riot, Squalo was pacing in front of the kitchen. Upon seeing them, he swooped down like a hawk on both of them, looking first at Tsuna's exhausted smile and then at Lussuria's more warm, cheery one. He nodded to himself, as if confirming something. "Not bad, brat. Voi, Lussuria, better hurry up, boss is getting grumpy."

The fighter needed no more encouragement, and walked into the kitchen to get dinner started. Squalo meanwhile, put a hand on Tsuna's arm and steered him out towards the front. "Walk with me, brat. You've made yourself scarce today, and I need to know what the damage is."

"Damage, sir?" Tsuna asked, suppressing a yawn. "I didn't break anything, if that's what you're worried about."

"Voi, I don't give a damn about that, brat. I'm talking about _you. _Nobody leaves with Lussuria for the amount of time you were gone and comes back looking as... _peaceful _as you."

Tsuna might not have been the brightest star in the sky, but he was still smart. He stopped, face turning white and then red as he realized what Squalo was implying. "He didn't- I- he- too young for his tastes," he finally spat out. The swordsman blinked, looking a bit surprised.

"Really?"

Tsuna nodded. "Y-yes. He called me cute, but said I was too young for his tastes, but my politeness was enough for him. Is that a bad thing?"

Squalo just stared, unable to believe what he was hearing. He had been sure as soon as he'd heard the kid go into the kitchen and seen Lussuria follow not too long after that it meant the kid would find himself in the fighter's bed before the night was over, but it seemed to be the exact opposite. Yes the kid had attracted Lussuria's attention, but not his interests. In fact, by saying what he had, Lussuria had practically made an oath not to rape the kid or attempt to anything more than flirt harmlessly.

Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't often his Muay Thai that made Lussuria dangerous, although that was powerful in its own right. It was his sexual appetite – his name, _Lust, _was all too appropriate. Women weren't into him because of his flamboyant ways, and he wasn't into them because he was an "okama" - whatever the hell that was. But men and younger teens of certain body types and personality were practically walking bait for the man, and while Lussuria was the most polite person on the team, he was still a made mafia man.

He had killed, done drugs, and even participated in human trafficking a few times, choosing one or two of the less-broken souls to be his toys. And once he set his sights on someone he wanted – _really, really _wanted – there was no hope for that person. Lussuria would pursue them to the ends of the earth, and sate his appetite whether he had their permission or not. That wasn't to say the man wouldn't _try _to earn consent from them. He was a patient predator, with a finely honed technique. It was only when he was pushed to his very last limit that he allowed that dark ravenous beast out, and the rest of the Varia would have to avoid his underground rooms for a few days.

It wasn't pretty, when one thought about it. But the mafia wasn't pretty either, and it wasn't made to be. Although sometimes Squalo did yearn for the days Tyr had spoken of so often, the days when codes of honor and such were still upheld with rigid regularity. He wondered what life would be like, if he and Xanxus had grown up in those days instead of the modern ones.

He patted the boy's shoulder. "No kid, it's not. You're pretty lucky, you know that?"

Tsuna blinked, then smiled. "Yeah, I do."

Somehow, Squalo didn't think he and the kid were talking about the same thing, but that was fine too. The kid would learn on his own time just how cold and cruel the Varia were, and he would see their world for what it was. And when that day came, Squalo would finally see just what the kid was made out of.

Until then though, there was no shame in basking in the peace, and secretly hoping for more. "C'mon kid, let's head back in. Lussuria's probably done with the food by now, and boss doesn't like anyone being late for dinner."

This was proven true when Squalo walked into the kitchen, and immediately got a shotglass thrown at his head by a rather irate Xanxus, who growled at him that he was late. Squalo proceeded to then scream that he was _not _late, which earned him another glass to the head. Tsuna, sitting between Levi and Lussuria, quietly ate his food and tried not to bother anybody, and especially tried not to get between Squalo and Xanxus, who turned the match into an all out war that was only solved when Xanxus broke out his guns.

It was just another part of the Varia household to take in, he supposed.

* * *

Author's Notes

"Rifugio" means _refuge _or _shelter._

And here we are, the fated meeting between Tsuna and the Varia! Looks like poor Tsuna's got his work cut out for him. Hopefully my rendition of Lussuria isn't too bad – I wanted him to come off as flamboyant in his own way, but also like a Varia member, dedicated to his job, with slightly "motherly" tendencies towards the team.

In other news, I am now officially jumping chapters. I have Chapter 5 done before I've even touched 4. There's a joke to be had about numbers eating each other somewhere along the lines, or mass murder between digits (nobody likes 4 anyway) but I digress. Point is, you'll probably get two chapters for the price of one when this next updates.


	4. Silence

"**Chetare"**

"_Deception and perfection are wonderful traits. One will breed love, the other hate." – _Marina and the Diamonds, Homewrecker

* * *

Tsuna would have been the king of fools if he'd believed after the first day that the Varia were a calm, if slightly loud and terrifying, bunch of assassins. He went to bed the first evening expecting the next day to be the start of it all – today had been a prelude, nothing more. Still, even with such _high _expectations for the next day, the morning alarm still managed to catch him off guard.

One minute Tsuna had been sound asleep, comfortable in the warm, silken blankets and the goose feather pillow, and the next an unholy scream rent the air, followed by something slamming into something else, and the ground shaking. In a second Tsuna's eyes were open and he was jumping out of bed and tearing down the hallways towards the foyer, heart pounding. What was going on? Where they under attack? Had someone been hurt? Was there a war going on?

As it turned out, it was none of those things. Squalo had thrown Levi into one of the walls after the latter had shocked the former for calling him names. Belphegor had joined in but been spared his fate by scaling one of the support beams and perching on top of a statue like some sort of demented, blond bird. Tsuna stood at the top of the staircase, clutching the banister in one hand and his side with the other as he fought to regain his air. All the while his eyes took in the damage, the long trail of broken tile and crumbled wall, and the man-sized hole left behind.

His first thought was _Xanxus won't be happy._

His second thought was _I have to patch that up, don't I?_

His final thought was _Goddamnit, it's too early for this._

It was then at that point that Squalo noticed him, and grinned up at him in a way reminiscent of a shark. "Voi! Good morning, brat!"

"Good morning," Tsuna replied cordially. Then he decided to test his fate. "Um, not meaning to sound rude or to question your actions sir, but what are you doing?"

"Teaching our resident porn-mongrel a lesson. I don't like people who get over-emotional about things, so I'm toughening him up. It's a training regime; you want to join?" His eyes gleamed with the promise of Hell, and Tsuna hastily shook his head.

"No, no thank you sir, I wouldn't want to waste anymore of your valuable time." _I don't want to die yet! I haven't even learned how to live! _

But Squalo merely shrugged. "Suit yourself brat. Lussuria's already down in his rooms, so you can head down after you eat if you want. He took the cleaning supplies with him, so everything's already set up. Don't screw up."

"Yes sir." With a short bow, Tsuna turned and left the trio to their... training regime. A glance at the clock revealed it was only about three in the morning – he'd only gotten eight hours of sleep before being woken back up. _Why do I have a feeling this is going to become a lot more common the longer I stay here? _With a sigh of defeat, he reached into his closet for one of the hand-me-downs given to him (there were actually quite a few that fit him, so his closet was stuffed) and put it on.

He ran his fingers through his bird's nest he called hair in an attempt to put it in some semblance of neatness (Squalo would never forgive him if he ruined his boss's reputation with his bad hair), and gave it up when nothing came out of it. His mother's genetics were clearly winning this war. He trudged out of his room not long after that, dodging the various knives, plates, forks and occasional Levi on his way to the elevator that would take him to Lussuria's private sanctuary.

* * *

Lussuria was in the middle of fighting someone when he walked in, so he didn't call out or greet the man. A few men in Varia uniforms stood to the side, watching the fight with various expressions of awe or fear. Almost all of them did a double-take when Tsuna picked up his mask, his mop and his bucket and went to the southern wall. Just as he had done last night, Tsuna picked up where he left off, viciously scrubbing at the spots where the red was thinnest. Fortunately not much effort was needed, and after a few minutes there was a gleaming white patch shining through the red like a beacon of hope. Tsuna smirked and started to tear into the rest of it.

Behind him, he heard something like a very nasty _crunch, _followed by a gurgle and a muted thump. Tsuna resisted the urge to turn around, something telling him he didn't want to see what had happened, and if he _did _turn around he would very quickly lose his breakfast. "Oh dear me, looks like that's another out. Could someone please put him with the others? Sometime _before_ he makes a mess of my ring."

Footsteps told Tsuna the men had moved, and a wet _schlep _told him the body (that's what he was now, there was no point in denying it) was being dragged away. Lussuria sighed dramatically, and then made a little startled noise when he turned and found Tsuna on the ladder. "Oh honey, I didn't hear you come in! How do you feel this morning?"

Tsuna did turn around then, forcing himself not to look at the ominous patch of red on the mat. "I'm feeling fine. Thank you for your help yesterday."

Lussuria batted the thanks away. "It was nothing." He looked up, and a smile crinkled his face as he saw how much white stood out against the red now. "Oh, that looks so much better. And it smells so much better too. I certainly hope these walls will be white again before long – red is _not _a spring color, and it is certainly not a winter color." He wrinkled his nose. "It makes it impossible to repaint my walls to go with the seasons."

"You repaint your room often?" Tsuna asked.

"Oh yes, its a habit of mine. It's also a very soothing activity. I paint each wall a different color, and then put my own little pictures on them. I'm hardly an artist, but it just adds a little touch of life down here. There's only so much death I can take before it just becomes disgusting."

The boy nodded, turning back to his wall after a moment. The men that had carted the body out returned then, and seeing how Lussuria was no longer occupied, one asked the question almost all of them were dying to know. "Sir... who is that boy?"

"Hm? Oh him? He's my little helper. He's doing me a favor and cleaning my room up, so please don't bother him. He's also the helper for the rest of the Varia, so don't harass him or try to get in his way." The smile Lussuria gave them might have looked nice, but there was a small stretch in it, and the men had been around the fighter long enough to know that acidic twist to his words when they heard it. "Understand?"

"Yes sir!" They all barked, saluting. Their eyes darted to the boy when Lussuria nodded and turned his back on them. They took in the thin body, the pale arms and skin, devoid of marks. The fact that he wasn't marked meant he wasn't one of Lussuria's toys, and he was too young to be a child of the man. So who? Who was this boy that was their master's "helper", and why wasn't he terrified?

Before long the boy had to dump the water, and peeled the mask off, fanning himself as he stepped off the ladder. He smiled at them as he passed, but said nothing. A minute after he left he returned, donned his mask again, and stepped back up on the ladder, continuing right where he had left off. Lussuria meanwhile went back to training, this time putting in a CD full of upbeat pop songs that he sang along to. The men ignored this in favor of watching the boy peel back the stains from the wall, leaving a gleaming white surface in his wake.

Nobody had been able to even leave a dent in that wall before – the blood on it was rumored to have been there from the very beginning. Rumors abounded that the wall was even cursed, and anyone who attempted to clean it would very quickly ended up dead. Needless to say, those unfortunate souls who fought against Lussuria did their best to die on one of the other walls. And yet this _child _was attacking it with a mop, and he was _winning._

Anyone who could do that was clearly worth respecting. So it was no surprise when the next time Tsuna stepped down to clean the bucket, one of the men dashed over and took it from him. "Please, allow me to help you."

"Oh, thank you." Tsuna smiled up at him, never seeing the flush cover the soldier's faces as they witnessed the cute aspect of him come alive. "Are you sure though? I don't mind doing it myself."

"N-no, its no trouble at all! It's the least we can do, since you're helping our commander out. He's been in a much better mood these past two days. He said you arrived yesterday, so you must be the reason!"

The others quickly nodded along to this assessment. Tsuna blinked, cheeks pinking. "I'm happy to hear that. I'm glad to be of service wherever its needed, so if you have clothes that ever need washing, or your rooms need tidying up, you can call on me."

Neither noticed that Lussuria's shoulders were shaking, and the man was hiding his grin behind a hand. Cute little Yoshi was wrapping the big bad Varia soldiers around his finger, and he wasn't even aware of it. Then again, there was a rather unnatural pull to the boy that made him easy to befriend and talk to. Perhaps it was just his naturally sweet disposition, willing to help those that needed it. Or maybe it was something else – who could say?

Either way, Lussuria was glad to see him making friends. Even if this place was just a temporary home, friends and allies helped make the days easier. Besides it was a blessing for the Varia as well; they were so used to being around mafia life, in all its rude, callous aspects that they had forgotten what it was like to actually encounter a polite soul who just wanted to make everyone's day better.

Squalo seemed to be taking his arrival rather well, but then again he was the Varia's representative for a number of meetings, as well as those few, very rare times when the news media decided to do a little poking around the Vongola. Back in the day one of the old man's Guardians had handled it, and now Enrico's Rain was handling most of them, but between those two periods Squalo had had a lot of work.

Besides, being the Sword Emperor forced him into contact with other people, which helped him keep his humanity a little better than Bel or Levi, who avoided people like the plague unless absolutely necessary.

Xanxus usually didn't bother dealing with anyone outside the Varia, and usually not even the Varia itself unless it was a mission or someone was grievously injured and near death. When he did go outside, it was usually late at night, when sleep eluded him. Lussuria himself was a people person simply because of his job, as well as his personality. Most of the Varia felt refreshed after having some time to themselves, but Lussuria thrived off the presence of others. It was why he went shopping so much, and why he mothered the rest of the Varia like he did.

Lussuria paused as a thought occurred to him. What if _that _was the reason little Tsuna drew the Sun user in so much? It made sense, if one were to think about it honestly – Lussuria fed off of other people in a way, and Tsunayoshi seemed to enjoy giving himself over to others for whatever reason they needed. In some ways, it was like the perfect match, almost like something out of those romance novels that were forever being churned out.

Plus, Tsunayoshi seemed to feed on the gratitude given to him through these simple actions. It made Lussuria wonder what the boy would do in the event that someone close to him was harmed. _Something tells me that it won't end well. Either for him or for whoever did the hurting. _Especially if the person in question was someone like Lussuria – it might just be a blood bath.

"Here you are!" The grunt returned with a clean bucket of water, handing almost carefully over to Tsuna.

"Thank you." The boy sent another one of those soft, kind smiles towards the group, and Lussuria watched the men bask in its glow, utterly captivated.

Oh yes. It would certainly be a blood bath.

* * *

While Tsuna was locked up with Lussuria, Belphegor was busy heading to the location of his next mission. This one was a simple find-and-kill, with a small additive at the end of the mission notes: _make it painful. _Looking at those words, Belphegor smirked. Someone had undoubtedly spat in some great boss's coffee or shat in their shoes – that's the only reason the Ninth would leave such a note behind. Despite all appearances, Belphegor's _true _sadist only came out under orders.

Everything else was just a pale mockery of that, a shadow made to make his enemies fear for their lives and fight harder. Unless his blood was spilled, but the times Belphegor could actually remember such things were few and far between. Once the blood was out, things got a little blurry, and when he finally came to it was usually covered in gore, with a great sense of mirth about him. The former prince figured it probably wasn't a good sign, but neither was joining an assassination squad out of boredom when he was eight.

The target worked at a small out-of-place cafe on the edge of the Varia's considerable territory, which meant he could go take care of business and be back in a few hours time. A nice little jog around the block, so to speak. Belphegor took to the rooftops, feeling the rush that came with a mixture of heights and parkour. Most wouldn't believe him the type to indulge in such practices, being a prince and all, but it was actually _because _he was a prince that he chose such an activity.

A good king was the type that stood on the battlefield with his men, that inspired fear and loyalty in his troops with his impressive resume and feats of strength. Belphegor loved the feeling when he was hunting prey, the spiraling addiction that just got worse the faster he ran, the closer he got to his target's heels. And so when he had joined the Varia, he had sought a way to feed the addiction. Lussuria had provided him the means, informing him that Italy's buildings were built close enough together to where a practiced parkour expert could easily fly across them. Belphegor had taken his advice, and used it. Needless to say, he was pleased with the results.

Two hours later he was in the same area as his target, and the cafe came into view not long after that. With practiced movements, he slid down a set of buildings, spreading his legs out to catch on the bricks and hold him. Forcing his breath into slow, even strokes, his eyes darted around behind his fringe, trying to catch sight of his prey. A crowd of people stood in front of the cafe, blocking his view, but Belphegor didn't mind.

A smart predator would patiently wait for his prey to come to him, not the other way around. But sometimes the best way to lure the prey in was to go and poke it with a stick. And since he was a genius in the art of killing, so it only made sense to use every available tactic to lure his enemies to him.

Soon the crowd parted, people sitting down or dispersing. Belphegor felt his mouth begin to water at the sight of his target – _Dorian __Bugiardini. _And much like his namesake, the man was a liar and a con artist. The only reason he hadn't been killed or jailed for his numerous offenses was that he was useful. Or at least, he _had _been. After a few more minutes the man vanished into the backroom.

_Too bad for you, little liar. I'm about to cut you down to size, once and for all. _His signature knives found their homes in his hands, the wires woven through the holes at the ends. Pulling his legs together, Belphegor let himself drop, sticking his hands in his pockets as he did and landing gracefully on his feet. He immediately began walking towards, his usual arrogant swagger around him. The people moved out of his way, eyes darting up to his crown in silent recognition. A few even ran.

Belphegor ignored them and casually strolled up to the cafe, leaning against the counter. While he waited for the cashier to finish talking to the man at the next register, he examined the area around him. Neat, tidy, but cozy. He could smell bleach, and beneath that a faint odor of vomit. A little more towards the kitchen area he caught the scent of strawberries and cream, but there was something distinctly _wrong _with the scent. It was too much like poisoned food, something Belphegor had been subjected to a half dozen times in his childhood. It was a scent he'd recognize easily, and a taste he would prefer to avoid.

His eyes narrowed beneath the fringe, and a cat's smile curved his face. It seemed their stock was a little... old. _Not that it seems to be stopping Dorian anytime soon. In fact, he's probably knocked the price down something sharp. _He looked up, towards the price board, and snickered. _What do you know, four smoothies for a euro. His stocking shelves must be truly full. _He turned his attention back to the front, and found the waitress done with her former customer. Upon glancing over she froze like a deer in the headlights for half a second before quickly composing herself. "P-prince Belphegor. How may we serve you today?"

Many in Italy knew of the Varia, and even more knew of the Bloody Prince Belphegor. While the prince normally avoided people, when he did have to come into contact with them, he usually left a large number of deaths in his wake. The police feared him too much to even try to arrest him – none of them even _thought_ about trying to take on the Varia as a whole, or even stop it. Between them and the Vongola, the police had very little work to do.

The blond grinned easily, a slight seductive edge to it. It was his 'reassuring' smile, which was just another way of saying it was the least terrifying one he possessed. "I'm here for your boss, little chickadee. Be a good bird and go tell your keeper to come out and play."

She didn't even nod, just turned and went to follow the order. Those sitting in the cafe with children were packing up and leaving, while those more foolish (or curious) stayed and tried to listen in. He didn't try to scare them away; they'd see for themselves soon enough what made him so terrifying. The girl came back after only a few minutes, looking much too pale. Dorian trailed in her wake, sneering down at Belphegor when he saw him. "What do you want?"

"Whose cup did you spit into, to be put on a mafia bounty?" he asked. He watched as Dorian's brain connected the phrases _mafia bounty _and his face went chalk white. "Did you rape some boss's daughter or steal a chunk of money you shouldn't have?"

"Mafia bounty? But I-" Then he shook his head, appearing to regain himself. "Why should I believe you, brat? Who are you, even?"

The girl's jaw dropped, eyes widening almost comically. "S-sir, this is Prince Belphegor, of-"

"A _prince? _You called me out here for some spoiled, bratty _prince?!_"

"To be fair," Belphegor drawled, enjoying the show, "I'm a very _special _prince."

Dorian sneered again, looking him up and down like he was something nasty on the bottom of his shoe. "I'm sure you are. You're what, ten?"

His grin was razor sharp. "Sixteen, actually."

"Oh, well _pardon _me. But some people actually have to work now, _your highness, _so why don't you just scuttle back to the little boarding school you came from?"

Ah, and there was the prompt. Belphegor took his knives out of his pockets, and casually threw them over their heads, faster than either of them could blink. "I'm afraid I can't do that, because you see," he twisted the remaining knives in his fingers until the wires wrapped round the man's throat, and he was gasping and clawing at his neck, "I'm a member of the Varia. Storm Guardian, in fact, and I've orders to kill you. So sorry."

Dorian's eyes bulged, and he started wheezing, much to the blond's enjoyment. He looked a lot like a fish on the end of a hook, trying desperately to survive and failing horribly. Except the fish might actually bring a decent fight to the table, and was actually useful for something. Chuckling darkly, Belphagor turned to the girl who hadn't dared to move an inch when his wires went to work. Smart girl, given if she had she would have been in pieces in about five seconds. "I don't suppose you have a private spot I can use? If not I can take my prey home and play with it for a bit."

She swallowed, not looking at her former boss, and said, "There's an alleyway right outside and to the right. We normally use it for garbage, so nobody goes back there."

"Perfect. Thank you for the _excellent _service~." Snickering at his own joke, Belphegor called the knives back to him and dragged the man outside into the alleyway. For the next hour and a half the small square and the cafe in it were vacant of people, save the occasional idiot who poked their head out to see what that screaming was about. Needless to say, they quickly regretted it.

* * *

Two hours later he was back at the Varia estate, leaving a path of blood and bits in his wake as he walked through the halls to his room. He had encountered the fluffy brunette brat when he first came in, and stood curious while the boy eyed him. In the end however he'd merely sighed and muttered something about needing stronger chemicals if this was going to happen more often.

Belphegor wasn't sure what he meant and quite frankly couldn't care enough to ask. Just because the homo-freak and the shark were invested in the fluffy brown thing boss had picked up didn't mean he had to be. Besides, a peasant was still a peasant, and princes didn't associate with peasants.

One hot shower later he was once again on the move, this time to the Vongola's main house to drop off his mission statement and maybe see if he could catch any snippets of interesting information on the way out. While Enrico and his band of pussies hated the Varia with a passion, the Ninth's Guardians had long since come to prefer their company over Enrico's, and so they tried to keep the Varia in the loop, so to speak.

Viscounti was usually the one Belphegor spoke to, if only because the Cloud was all business when he spoke, never dawdling on the things that might or might not happen. Belphegor could respect such an approach, and even like it on certain days. Today was one such day, and after dropping his report off on the old fart's desk he headed to the parlor where the man could usually be found.

Indeed, Viscounti was there, perched in his favorite chair with _The Art of War _on the table of front of him. "Shishishi, stealing from the old man's library again?"

It was one of Viscounti's guilty pleasures to read war books, and the Ninth had a great deal of them in his personal library. Belphegor wondered what the man thought when one or two of his books went missing for a day only to turn up right back on the bookshelves the next morning. Or maybe he already knew and just didn't care. The old fart was crafty like that sometimes.

Viscounti marked his page and closed the book. "Has the Ninth informed your Xanxus of Enrico's recent actions?"

"If you're talking about kicking the Commission in the balls, yes. And I believe his response was something along the lines of, 'that stupid little troll's gonna get us all killed in our sleep'."

The man's chuckle came from deep in his chest. "I imagine he _would _think that. Not that it's misplaced, mind you. Smoke?"

Belphegor took one. He normally wasn't a smoker, but all of the Cloud's cigarettes were hand-rolled, and they tasted infinitely better than the store bought shit. "Besides the failure's fuck up, anything interesting going on? Or fixing to go on?"

Viscounti shook his head. "Nope. We're all sitting on pins and needles waiting for the Commission to get back to us, and our allies are talking about booting Enrico off the position of Decimo, but that's nothing new." He wordlessly offered his lit cigarette out, touching the end of his to Belphegor's to light it. The prince nodded his thanks and took a healthy drag. Ah, sweet relaxation.

"What _are _you going to do when the punishment comes, Cloud? Doubtless the Commission won't want such a dangerous boss around, especially not one with that much power. Secondo was bad enough." Hell, the Commission probably had Secondo's entire reign documented somewhere and periodically took it out just to wave it in the faces of new bosses and say, _see, this is what you __**don't **__do!_

The thought made him snicker. Enrico must not have been in class that day.

Viscounti shook his head. "Hells if I know, boy. But I know Timoteo's not happy, which makes the rest of us pissy as fuck. Just the other day Nougat snapped at some poor little servant boy for getting his order wrong. Even Schnitten isn't sitting still."

"I'll tell boss to beware, then, if its getting that bad." Schnitten was slow to anger, but when he did get angry it was terrifying to watch. "I'll also keep our newest little pet from doing something stupid."

"Pet?" Viscounti's eyebrow went up. "Your master pick someone up, prince?"

"Shishi~ A lowly peasant of sorts. Came and asked for our protection, so boss gave it. Beats me why, but we've been ordered not to touch him and boss hasn't set a date for when he has to be out, so." He shrugged in a _what can you do _manner, finishing off his smoke and grinding the stub into the ashtray. "Thanks for the smoke, Cloud. I might pop back in to talk again once the storm clears. Good luck and favorable tidings to you and yours."

"May your hunts be fruitful and your pillars remain strong, Storm. Guard your house well."

Belphegor gave a lazy wave in response, shutting the door to the parlour on his way out. Well, the trip hadn't been a complete waste, although he was a little disappointed he hadn't managed to catch any juicy gossip to feed back to boss. Xanxus might not have looked it, but he liked a well-oiled rumor mill as much as the rest of them.

"-heard? Master Enrico supposedly sent orders to kill the former head of the CEDEF!"

_Oh? _Belphegor's eyes widened minutely. _Well hello, well-oiled rumor mill. _He slowed down, pressing against the wall to listen to the two maids talking it out.

"But why would he do something so cruel? I thought it was against the rules!"

"Beats me, but that's the story going around right now. I don't put much stock in rumors honestly, but this one was too good to ignore."

Belphegor decided this was the perfect time to show himself. "Excuse me ladies, but did I just hear something about new rumors?" He recognized the two maids now that he saw them – Annabelle and Charlotte, a pair of sisters that had come from England. They had served the Ninth for almost the entirety of his reign, and were incredibly loyal to him and his. Annabelle was plump, with rich, red curls and a polite, if slightly dominant personality. Charlotte was skinny, with too many freckles, brown curls, and a shy, but very helpful personality. Both loved the Varia nearly as much as they loved the Ninth, especially nowadays.

Annabelle stiffened, face turning nearly as red as her hair. "P-prince! I apologize, had we known you were coming-"

Belphegor waved it off. "It's fine, I was just on my way out. So, the rumors...?"

Charlotte darted to the ends of each hallway, carefully checking for anyone in the main vicinity. "It's clear!"

Nodding, her sister turned back to the prince. "There have been a lot of rumors circulating around Master Enrico lately, sir. One of them says that he ordered a kill on the former leader of the CEDEF, Sawada Iemitsu."

The blond hummed. "If I remember the current laws of the Vongola correctly, that is very much illegal, is it not? Retired mafia men aren't to be bothered, and their location isn't supposed to be disclosed. So if the rumor is true, how did the little fake prince get his hands on the locations?"

The sisters shared a look. Annabelle lowered her voice quite a bit, leaning in and speaking behind her hands. "There's a rumor about that too. It's much more dangerous though, so you didn't hear it from me." When he nodded, she continued. "Rumor tells that his wife sold him out. She used to be part of this family, and there was no sign of her at the home. There are even some that say she's sleeping with Enrico, even though no one's seen her around lately. But she must be here sir, because Enrico had the guest bedroom next to his personal wing made up not long after Sawada's death certificate came in, and Miss Anastasia says he visits the room every night, at around the exact same time. She says she hears a woman's voice sometimes sir, laughing or...m-moaning."

Belphegor's jaw dropped open very slightly. What had started off as a chance to catch some interesting rumors had become a rumor goldmine. "You don't say? That's... quite interesting." Xanxus was going to throw a _shitfit _when he heard this.

"Ahem."

The sisters turned, paling as they realized who was standing there. "L-lord Timoteo!"

Vongola Ninth stepped out of the shadows, a faint smile on his face. "Good evening you three. Thank you girls for entertaining Belphegor in my absence, but I believe Coyote is looking for you."

The hint was taken, and the two girls bowed and scurried off to find the Storm Guardian. Belphegor on the other hand, wasn't fooled in the slightest. "Your entrance needs work, old Sky. Less creeping up and more pizazz."

Timoteo chuckled. "I'm not sure I have any pizazz left at my age, my boy."

"Don't try to play me, old fox. I saw you skulking in the shadows. Why did you let them talk like that? Normally you'd be quashing rumors, not letting them build like this."

Timoteo hummed. "I love all my sons, no matter how far away they may live. If I think something is about to happen, its my duty to inform them so they can know what to expect, no?"

The blond stiffened. "And if that 'something' happens to come from your son?"

Something dark crossed Timoteo's face, and for an instant his voice resonated with a deep, old power. "Enrico is no son of mine any longer."

"I see." Belphegor sketched a bow, recognizing the plan Timoteo had so craftily laid out in his lap. Everyone knew how much the Varia loved rumors, and if Belphegor happened to return to the Varia with one or two that had been flying around despite Timoteo's best efforts to stop them, well, who could say it had been anything more than being at the right place at the right time? "I'll sharpen my teeth in preparation. Good luck cleaning house, old fox."

"Guard your Sky well, Belphegor. My son needs you."

* * *

Xanxus had been relaxing in front of the fireplace in the living room, staring drowsily into the flames when Belphegor had rounded the corner at a quick pace and plopped on the couch seat beside him. "Boss, you're never going to guess what I heard at the Vongola house."

"I already know about the brat screwing up, remember? I told you, royal trash." Cracking a yawn, he snuggled further back into the couch, eyes sliding down. "If that's all, I'm going to sleep and you'd better not wake me up."

"Enrico ordered a hit on Sawada Iemitsu, the retired leader of the CEDEF," Belphegor whispered, leaning in close and speaking behind his hands. Xanxus' eyes snapped back open, and the two red orbs pinned the blond in place.

"Explain," he uttered, just as softly.

"It's flying all over the Vongola manor, boss. The sisters told me – everyone thinks that Enrico ordered the death of Sawada Iemitsu, and even more than that, they think his wife sold him out."

"What?" Xanxus sat up, no longer slouching. There was a fair amount of genuine alarm in his eyes. "_What?_"

"There's more, boss. They're saying that Enrico and his wife were sleeping together and are still now, because not long after Sawada's death certificate came in, Enrico had the guest bedroom in _his wing _made up, and little Anastasia sometimes hears noises at night when she goes to check on it. She also sees Enrico visit it – frequently."

Xanxus' eyes were glowing eerily, and a sense of heat was beginning to press down on the area. "Is that everything, prince?"

Belphegor carefully remembered what he'd heard. "Your father knows. He's disowned Enrico. When I asked him why he wasn't trying to stop the rumors, he said and I quote, ' _I love all my sons, no matter how far away they may live. If I think something is about to happen, its my duty to inform them so they can know what to expect, no?'._"

His leader and Sky had all but frozen in his seat, fingers gripping the fabric so hard Belphegor could hear the seams popping in the silence. But he didn't dare to move or even breath wrong, knowing the lethal edge Xanxus stood on in his anger – one wrong move could mean death. So he stayed and waited for the anger to go through its various stages, watching the shadows shift across the scarred man's face in the meantime.

After a good fifteen minutes of silent anguish, Xanxus let out a long, slow breath and spoke in a voice that was so full of weariness it made Belphegor's own temper sharpen up a little. "Has the Commission gotten back to them, yet?"

"Not yet."

Xanxus closed his eyes and leaned his head back, leaving his throat open. Belphegor's entire body tensed at the submissive movement, knives slinking back into his fingers, ready to launch at attack against anyone who wandered into the room. "You said his name was Sawada?"

"Yes, why?"

"Do we still have that book of family bloodlines?"

Now Belphegor was confused. "Yes... I think Mammon has it. Why?"

"Bring it here."

The prince was tempted to argue, but one look at Xanxus' face told him that would be a bad idea. So he shrugged instead and went to get the book from Mammon's room. Mammon didn't appreciate being disturbed, but once he heard the reason behind it he let Belphegor in long enough to take a look around while he got the book. The baby levitated a large, leather book over. "Here. It's heavy, so be careful."

Waving his concerns off, he took the book back to Xanxus, who was sitting fully upright now, looking almost disturbed by something. There were lines between his eyebrows, and his eyes had become lighter, becoming almost rose-colored instead of their usual bloody color. "Here you go, boss."

Grunting, Xanxus took the book and thumbed through it, going past first through eighth generation until he reached the ninth generation. One finger traced the line from the Ninth to the four sons – Enrico, Massimo, Federico and Xanxus. His second hand trailed a line leading from a post marked _First Generation Vongola Primo _down to three other names, before finally stopping at a marked name – _Sawada Iemitsu. _

But there was one more branch. This one came off of Sawada Iemitsu, and it was this one that had Xanxus laughing. "Oh Enrico, stupid, _stupid _little brother," he gasped as he laughed, "what have you _done?"_

* * *

_Today was another productive day. _He'd been scrubbing all day, but he'd managed to get that south wall all shiny and new. Lussuria had practically screamed, he'd been so happy. As it was, he'd hugged Tsuna and given him a small sweet for his thanks. Tsuna kept it in his pocket, his inner child wanting to eat it but his older self wanting to keep it for a rainy day. He started his second wall, but Lussuria had dismissed him for the day, citing he had done more than enough for one day and would need to rest up, as he couldn't use his healing powers on him all the time. Tsuna had agreed, and left the cleaning supplies behind before heading upstairs to wash up.

On his way to the washroom however, Squalo stopped him. "Boss wants to see you."

For one second the world dropped out from underneath his feet, but it came back just as quickly, and Tsuna smiled, trying to hide the pain behind it. "Ah, okay." Squalo turned and started leading him, Tsuna obediently following.

He had known it had been too good to last – he'd hoped that he might be allowed to stay so long as he didn't get in anyone's way, but evidently he'd inconvenienced somebody, and was now being asked to leave. Well, it wasn't so bad he supposed. Maybe he could find a gutter or something to live in, someplace the people hunting him wouldn't look.

Or maybe he should plead his case? But Xanxus didn't seem the patient sort. _What am I going to do?_

His fears must have shown on his face despite his efforts not to let them, because a gentle hand patted his head in a vaguely soothing manner. Tsuna looked up, and found Squalo smiling (the man _could_ actually smile, and it actually made him look fairly handsome in Tsuna's opinion) at him. "Easy brat. You're not being kicked out or abandoned. Boss just got a couple of questions about how you're settling in."

"How did-?"

"I've got years reading people, squirt. And you wear your heart on your sleeve. It wasn't hard."

"Oh." Blushing, Tsuna looked at the ground, mentally chiding himself for being such a worrywart. "Okay then. I'll just... yeah."

Squalo snickered, but didn't comment. Tsuna also noticed he kept petting his hair. Odd, but not unpleasant. He almost missed it when the hand dropped away, and Tsuna was moving back into the darkened den that made up Xanxus' room. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

A vague hand wave had him moving closer and standing in the same spot he'd been before. Xanxus' expression gave nothing away, but somehow Tsuna knew that something was wrong. "Are you comfortable here, brat?"

"Yes sir."

"You understand what we are?"

"Yes, sir."

"You understand that despite our politeness, despite our... kind gestures and words, we are still first and foremost _assassins _and made mafia men, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

A slight weight seemed to come off him. "Would you prefer living somewhere else?"

Tsuna blinked, caught off guard. "S-sir?" Had Squalo been lying? Was he actually being asked to leave?

"Your father... he has a group that follows him. I'm sure they could keep you safe. They're mafia, but they're not..." he gestured towards himself, and then outside. "Wouldn't you prefer that?"

Tsuna tilted his head. "With all due respect sir, if they were as great as you say they are, my father would have sent me to _them_. Plus, according to what Colonnello told me on the plane ride here, CEDEF follows Vongola's orders, and Vongola are the ones hunting for me. It seems rather counterproductive, for me to go to them." He stopped, a thought occurring. "Unless... you would prefer it that way."

Xanxus shook his head. "No, I... nothing. You're fine, brat. I just wanted to make sure."

"Of course sir. Is there anything else?"

The man shook his head, leaning back into his chair. "No. Now shoo."

"Yes sir."

Xanxus watched him go, and let out a sigh when he was sure the brat was gone down the hall. He had thought the boy, being the man's son, would prefer living among the CEDEF, but it seemed like the boy knew nothing of them. Of course, Xanxus wasn't about to judge just off of a single conversation, and would see if maybe Lussuria or Squalo could do a bit of poking around, since they seemed to be taking to the boy better than the others.

Rubbing his temples, he tilted his chair until he could stare back at the ceiling comfortably. He had started into this believing the brat was nothing more than Checkerface's pawn, but now he was starting to realize that that thought was as far from the truth as he could possibly get. But now the question remained: _where do we go from here?_

* * *

Author's Notes

"Chetare" means _hush _or _silence._

Things I realized this chapter: I've been writing Belphegor's name wrong all this time – I've been writing it Belph**a**gor instead of Belph**e**gor – and its nearly impossible for me to get out of the habit. I doubt anyone's noticed, but there it is.

**Parkour,** for those who don't know, was originally created in France in the 1980s, becoming increasingly popular in the 90's and 2000's. It's the art of getting from A to B using the obstacles in your path while maintaining a decent amount of momentum to help get you from one obstacle to the next.


	5. Alarm

"**Allarme"**

"_Hello, hello, remember me? I'm everything you can't control." - _Evanescence, What You Want

* * *

The Varia had a habit of keeping irregular hours of sleep when off-duty. With the breaking of the Vongola had come more time spent sleeping and less time working, which was how nearly a full week after Tsunayoshi's arrival at the manor, all the Varia found themselves in the kitchen, sitting together and eating breakfast. Even Xanxus was there, glaring at his steak as if it had personally offended him. He didn't know why, but he didn't like today.

It felt _off, _and when days felt off, it meant there was someone waiting in the wings to piss him off. While there were days Xanxus relished in bloodshed and carnage, even he couldn't go full-tilt all hours, and there were days when killing almost felt like a chore. Today was one such day. Before he could dwell on such thoughts too long however, the door swung open and Lussuria walked in, clad in his winter outfit and holding a tray of steaming hot coffee.

The Varia sans Xanxus did a collective lunge at the tray – coffee was the one thing on God's green earth that they all cherished and loved and would kill to get. And while the coffee pot and espresso maker in the kitchen were fantastic, Lussuria's occasional trips to the small corner market across the way to buy coffee from a different source was equally fantastic. Sometimes a break from the regular stuff made everyone's day.

"_Ah~!_ That's better." Levi slammed his down without even pausing, while everyone else took their time, sipping and enjoying the flavor. They all had different coffees, depending on the season. Since winter was nearly on them, it meant the special-edition holiday flavors were coming out, and that was always something to look forward to.

"Shishishi~ Princely as always."

"Voi, I've fucking _missed _this."

"A worthy investment."

Lussuria smiled at the compliments, placing the tray down on the table and moving to make himself some breakfast. It was then that Belphagor noticed the extra cup sitting innocently in the tray. "Shishi, is that for boss? You know he doesn't like coffee."

"Hm? Oh no darling, that's for the little angel upstairs. So don't touch." And he smacked Bel's hand, which was currently creeping towards the extra, with the spatula. Bel withdrew it, pouting.

"Why does _he _get coffee?"

"Because he's done nothing but be wonderfully helpful since he's shown up here! Have you _seen _how clean my studio is? He actually managed to get those stains out of the walls! For a job like that, I figure the least I can do is buy him a coffee. Besides, a little reward now and again encourages good behavior among the ranks." Lussuria flipped the eggs he'd begun to scramble, and reached for the bacon. "I also let him sleep in a little bit this morning – I figure he needs rest after trying to keep up with our schedule."

"Plus, its a fucking Saturday. Who the hell gets up on a Saturday?" Squalo grumbled. Xanxus noticed that Squalo and the kid seemed to be pretty tolerant of one another – even on days when all Squalo did was yell and scream, the kid would stop and lend an ear to whatever problems the white-haired commander had. _Patience of a fucking saint, I tell ya, _he'd heard Squalo tell Bel one evening as he'd been passing by. _He's got this aura that sucks you in and makes you want to spill all your fucking problems out. _

Despite this however, only three of the Varia had officially accepted his presence in the house. Levi was convinced the brat was attempting to steal all of his boss's time and loathed him, while Bel thought he was too much of a peasant to belong in their home. Mammon had yet to even voice his opinion of the boy, or speak a word about him at all really. Xanxus didn't mind so long as the brat didn't get under their feet or go against the rules he had laid down.

Of course, the kid just seemed grateful to be out from underneath the Vongola's eye, so it was a bit much to expect a rebellion. The idea was almost comical at this point, really.

The door opened again, and all eyes looked up as the brat himself came in, fuzzy-faced and yawning. He froze when he realized the entire team of assassins was present, and hastily gathered himself, bowing properly. "G-good morning sirs!"

That got him a few grunts, and a raised eyebrow from Squalo, who didn't really understand the whole politeness thing. Lussuria was by his side in an instant, crooning over his manners and fussing as usual. "Good morning, dear! Did you sleep alright?"

"Y-yes sir, I slept fine." A hesitant smile crossed the boy's face, and Xanxus watched, intrigued as the expression changed to shock and confusion when Lussuria thrust the coffee in his face.

"I've told you before, call me Lussuria. Here you are dear. I made a little run down to the market this morning and grabbed something for our boys. I hope you like pumpkin spice!"

Xanxus doubted the kid cared what flavor it was; he seemed more than happy just to receive the praise, if the way his face lit up was any indication. "Thank you very much, Lussuria!"

"Oh think nothing of it. Are you hungry?"

"No thank you, I'm fine."

It was then that Xanxus noticed something about the kid. Despite only being around for a week, he had learned to read the brat's body language – it wasn't that hard really, when one considered he'd been doing it with a bunch of bloodthirsty assassins for years. The kid had already made it painfully clear he knew nothing of his Dying Will Flames, or any sort of power along those lines. Which made Xanxus curious why the brat, despite being cheery and upbeat, was strung tight as a bow and looked about ready to leap ass-over-end at the slightest wrong movement.

And he wasn't the only one that had noticed, either. In fact, it seemed like most of the people in the room were tuning into the silent language, including Lussuria, who shared a very brief glance with Xanxus, but managed to pass the message along all the same. _What's wrong with him?_

"Brat!" Xanxus barked, putting enough bite into his voice to catch the boy's undivided attention.

It did that, but Xanxus also saw the way the kid's body unlocked and his movements gained a sort of graceful flow to them for a second or two – the same sort of movements someone dodging an attack would make. "Sir?"

"Why the fuck are you so tense?"

The brunette looked surprised, confused, and terrified all at once. "S-sir? I'm afraid I don't understand."

"Your body, brat. You're wired tight as a fucking bow, like you expect an attack," Squalo added in, and Tsuna swung to look at him before frowning. He took a deep breath and slowly his body relaxed itself.

"Oh." Tsuna blinked. "Oh wow, I-I didn't realize I was like that. I'm sorry."

_That _was interesting. Squalo's eyebrows shot into his hairline, and even Lussuria paused in his cooking to consider that. If it was an unconscious thing, then it was possible...

"Do you feel warm?" Xanxus asked again, this time paying attention less to the words and more to the kid's face.

"A-A little." The kid admitted. Xanxus grunted. At least he wasn't lying.

"Since when?"

"Y-yesterday, actually. B-but its not a big problem!"

_It is, brat, _Xanxus thought with a growl, _because it means the shit is about to hit the fan. _"When did it start yesterday? Evening? Morning?"

"Right after I finished cleaning Lussuria's studio."

"That was about at 10:30," Lussuria supplied helpfully.

_So the kid's intuition has been acting up since yesterday morning. And now mine's acting up, on top of it... _Xanxus turned his attention off the kid, glowering at the table in front of him. "I don't like this," he rumbled, "I don't like this one fucking **bit.**"

"S-sir...?"

"Trouble on the wind, boss?" Squalo murmured, low enough to where the brat didn't hear. He was sitting a bit straighter now, eyes lethal and dark. Xanxus inclined his head, trying to think of where the trouble would come from. He already had a hunch, but he wasn't the type to bank everything on one path. No, it was far better to stretch his mind a bit. After a pause, he rounded back on the boy, turning to face him.

"You don't leave the fucking mansion today, runt. You hear me?" When the boy nodded rapidly, he looked over to Lussuria. "You got anything else for him to do?"

The fighter shook his head. "I'm afraid not. My studio won't need cleaning for another few months yet."

"I can take him."

Xanxus turned to face Mammon, who had finished his breakfast and was dabbing his mouth with a napkin. "You sure?"

"I have been meaning to clean the study for ages. It will take quite a bit for the child to get everything to my satisfaction." The frog on his hood changed to a snake, and Mammon levitated until he and the boy were eye-level. "Be aware, child, I do not tolerate mistakes in _my _den. You will learn to do things properly, or you will pay a hefty fine. Do we have an understanding?"

He moved a bit closer, but the brat didn't even shift an inch. Xanxus was almost slightly impressed – Mammon could cut an intimidating figure when he wanted to. It helped that he had enough power to level cities in under a minute. "Yes sir. No mistakes."

"Very well. You will eat – do _not _argue with me, child – and then you will report to my chambers. Clean yourself up, wear clothes you don't mind getting dirty, and get the cleaning supplies out of the cabinet up there." And with that Mammon left the kitchen, and Tsuna let out a breath he had been holding. Lussuria finished the last bite of his breakfast and stood, patting the brat on the head.

"Don't worry about it, dear. Mammon takes what he does very seriously, and with good reason. Just listen to his orders, don't get in his way and accept that he is better than you in every way, and you'll be just fine." Smiling, he piled his empty plate with the leftover eggs and bacon from the pan, as well as a piece of bread before pushing it into Tsuna's hands. "Best get started!"

It was a sign of growing wisdom in the boy that Tsuna didn't argue; just nodded and started eating.

* * *

Sawada Tsunayoshi was dangerous. Call him old-fashioned, but that was the plain, simple crux of the matter. Pulling a piece of paper towards him, Mammon grabbed one of the pens nearby and began writing. _Week 1: Boy shows no signs of awareness towards his own abilities. Potential threat level: __**High. **__Method of removal of threat: Discipline training. _Note written, he folded the paper up and stuck it into one of the many crevices in the brick walls of his rooms, watching as the paper dissolved into the walls, the words appearing on the stone itself for a brief instance before vanishing.

With a sigh, he pushed back from his desk, and moved over to the bookshelf, where the records were kept. Despite their appearance, discipline was a very big thing in the Varia household. They were crazy, wild at times yes, but they were _never _out of control of themselves or their powers. Not like the boy was. Not having a grip on your powers was one thing – that could be taught, controlled with enough help. It was another thing to actively use the powers and not be aware of them. No one had explained to this child what the 'heat' was or where it came from. He knew nothing of the Dying Will Flames, of the Elements, or any other aspect of the world. He was blind, deaf, dumb and mute; a complete waste of time and effort, designed only to be culled at this point. It would be a mercy to the pitiful child.

And yet he had managed to impress both Xanxus and Squalo enough to be allowed to stay. He had managed to end up in the prodigious spot of younger sibling to Lussuria, who could look at anyone and see them for what they were in a heartbeat. Such things were not events to be taken lightly; it meant the boy had potential, perhaps not much but enough for Mammon to work with.

Over his long existence, both as an Arcobaleno and as a full-grown man, he had taken several students under his wing. He knew the best method to help them grow, help them bloom with unbridled power and draw that potential into something useful. He could help the boy control what was his, teach him discipline enough to wield the considerable power he held. But that was part of the problem – he _could. _That didn't mean he wanted to. Give someone an inch, and they would take a mile. Every student had been the same – always desiring more, never content with what they had.

This boy wasn't like that. He seemed content with what he had – just being allowed to grace the Varia halls. That was fine, Mammon supposed, but it didn't solve the problem. The illusionist didn't work with people who weren't worthy, who didn't fight and claw and work at getting where they stood. The boy, for all his power and charm, had yet to prove himself a worthy individual. He had arrived at the Varia mansion through no power of his own, only the talents and sacrifices of others. He knew nothing of hard work or dedication – which meant he _was _nothing.

But he was a nothing with a heap of potential in him, which made him interesting. Useful, to a degree. Tracing a finger down the long spines of his books, he finally pulled the one he wanted from the shelf. The book was hollow; inside lay a packet of what looked to be dust, to any outsider that might chance upon it. Only Mammon knew it for what it was – a very powerful drug that when inhaled, allowed him to go inside a subject's mind and view their internal world without triggering the mental barriers that made up every human's consciousness.

Taking the bag, he slipped it into one of the inner pockets of his cloak and closed the book, setting it back on the shelf again. With this, he could begin the process of breaking down the boy the Varia had allowed into their homes, and setting him on the right path – a path where he was a human, instead of a tool.

_Now to set the trap, _Mammon thought as he opened his study door, _and wait for the prey to walk into it. _

* * *

Mammon, as Tsuna came to discover hours later, was a very strict and harsh taskmaster. He had set Tsuna to work as soon as he'd stepped in the previously small-looking room. As it turned out, Mammon had found a set of tunnels leading down to an old crypt underneath the mansion, and had used them to his advantage as a sort of lab. Most of it was underground, in cold dark hallways and stone rooms lit with candles. His main room however was above ground, in the form of a massive, spiraling library with six floors, and too many doors to count.

It was just as dark as the crypt, lit with candles here and there. Thick dust covered the broken chandeliers high up, as well as the shelves, the floor and even the carpets. It was quite the intimidating job, but someone had to do it, and Tsuna had promised to work if he got to stay. So he rolled up his sleeves, took a deep breath, and plunged in. He started high up, since if he started on the floors he would just end up doing them again later when all the dust came down. Mammon gave him a ladder, as well as strict instructions on what would happen should he knock anything over, break anything, or otherwise damage his rooms beyond what its current state entailed.

Tsuna also discovered that Mammon didn't like repeating himself twice. And that he believed in physical punishment for disobedient children – it didn't matter that Tsuna was two and a half rooms away from the illusionist, if he did something wrong he still felt a sharp sting on his back or his shoulders or even his hands, the sensation not unlike that of a switch. Needless to say, it only took a few hits for Tsuna to learn to pay attention to the details and put every ounce of strength he had into the cleaning.

Mammon didn't make a reappearance until late afternoon, and by then Tsuna had managed to get both large chandeliers cleaned and gleaming, and the ceiling completely scrubbed. Some of the old paint had chipped and fallen off, but it wasn't bad overall. Tsuna waited patiently on a ladder, covered in dust, dirt and cobwebs as Mammon circled around, examining every inch of his work. The chandeliers squeaked when he ran a finger along their golden arms, and any leftover wax from the previous candles had been completely cleaned out, leaving the spots open for new ones.

Anyone else might have admitted it was a good job, and given Tsuna the rest of the day off. But Tsuna knew Mammon wasn't the type to slack on _anything, _which was why when he made a small, flat noise of discontent, Tsuna merely asked, "What did I miss?"

Mammon pointed, and Tsuna winced as he saw that he had indeed missed – an entire section of ceiling had gotten past his gaze. _Penalty, _he thought miserably. The illusionist seemed to be thinking along similar lines, if the tight line his mouth had set in was any indication. "Off the ladder," he barked. Tsuna hastily clambered down, flinching when he heard the cracking of a whip near his ear. Even if it was only an illusion, it was still terrifying.

The instant his feet touched the ground, shackles slithered out from under the tables and bound his ankles and arms, freezing him in place. Mammon floated down and was suddenly up in his face between one blink and the next, gripping his hair hard enough to pull on his scalp and yanking his head back. "Kneel, boy."

Tsuna didn't even think about disagreeing. He pulled his legs under him and didn't move, even when Mammon reached inside his jacket for a packet of something – it looked like dust. Somehow, he knew it wasn't – the heat inside him was burning again, except this time there was an edge of solid cold accompanying it. Mammon let go of his hair suddenly, almost as if it burned him, and pulled some of the dust from the packet, shifting it in his palm.

"Inhale," he ordered, and then blew it square into Tsuna's face.

He did, and after a handful of seconds a sense of exhaustion and dizziness unlike anything he had ever encountered before swept over him. He tried to stand and found himself falling onto something soft instead. Murmurs reached his ears, and then a single finger reached out from the darkness of Mammon's cloak and touched itself against his forehead. Everything froze, and stayed frozen as something _pressed _against the hot-cold sensation, pushing it aside like a door.

There was a sense of emptiness, of missing something, before Tsuna became aware of the feeling of _someone else _under his skin, looking out of his eyes for him while he could only watch from a distance. He tried to panic and found he couldn't. He tried to resist and found it futile. He could do nothing except lay in Mammon's grip as the illusionist peeled back the walls of his mind and slipped inside. Eventually his body went limp and his eyes shut, unconscious bliss sweeping over him. Whatever Mammon did next, he didn't want to see.

* * *

Mammon smirked as the last bit of the boy's consciousness fell away in retreat. Clearly the boy had come to the realization that fighting against him was an impossible feat in his current nothing to impede his path any longer, he was free to explore the boy's mind at his leisure. He wouldn't actively change it – not yet, but rather he would take note of which areas needed a hand in improvement.

Stretching his powers just a little, he attempted to get a feel for the world around him. He could tell that the boy was constantly taking in new information, which was a plus; but he could also tell that the boy was becoming easily overwhelmed with everything new in his life right now, which was coming out in small failures like not noticing he'd missed an entire section of wall to clean.

Even if it _was _an illusion, Mammon wasn't about to let the boy get away with falling for such obvious trickery. _So he needs to be trained to pay attention to details, as well as how to manage the information he gets. I suppose I'd better tack 'how to combat illusions' on there as well. _He calmly sorted through the boy's recent emotional memories – they would allow him to feel, but not see what was going on – and smirked when he realized the wave of sheer awe, a very prominent emotion, had come from his meeting with Xanxus. _At least he got that part right. _Beyond that there wasn't anything particularly interesting, so he left the memories alone after that.

The organization of his mind was also something Mammon had to teach him. An illusionist's mind was their workspace and battle tool – if it got overworked or crowded, things would not go smoothly, and it might even cost them their lives. The boy was no illusionist, but anyone with power could tell you that keeping a clear head was key in any fight. The brat had everything scattered _everywhere, _and it was nearly impossible to see what went where. Oh, there were a couple of attempts of organization Mammon could tell, but both of those had sunk quicker than the Titanic.

He sneered. _This brat is going to be fined out the __**nose **__for such atrocities. By the time I'm through with him he'll be so deep in debt it'll take lifetimes to get rid of! _

After all, he hadn't taught a student _pro bono _yet and wasn't about to start. If this idiotic pup was to be his next unfortunate victim, he might as well milk it for all it was worth. He could already tell this one would be a lot more work than any of his other pupils; the sheer amount of _failure _radiating off him told him that much. Besides, other students usually had some grip on their powers by the time they reached his doorstep – this boy didn't even have an idea of what was going on. _Lessons on the Dying Will, Flames, Elements, the mafia world he's in, on top of everything else... goodness, I've gotten myself a troublesome one. _

After a few more seconds of inspection, he pushed himself back out of the boy's head. There was nothing else beyond the dark void that he could see, and he wasn't about to go wandering around where nothing existed. Many a fledgling illusionist had gotten themselves locked away in someone's head for good that way. _I'd be the shame of the Varia if I did something so foolish at my age. _

Shaking his head, Mammon pushed the boy off his lap, shivering as full sensation abruptly returned to him. He hadn't been gone long, if Fantasma's appearance was anything to go by. If Mammon was in his meditative state long enough, his familiar would usually transform back into a frog and seek out a warm spot to sit in until he returned. Since he was still in snake form, it was safe to assume time hadn't suddenly jumped forward without his consent.

"To me, Fantasma," he ordered softly. The snake slithered up his arm and back onto his head, where it quickly formed an Oroborous, sensing its master's intentions. Floating up to the ceiling, Mammon concentrated on the illusion he'd made and withdrew it, leaving behind a sparkling section of the area that matched the rest of the ceiling. Now that he was actually looking at it, he had to admit it was a fair job. Not perfect, but given the age of the child and his previous knowledge with this sort of labor, it was decently done. He comforted himself with the knowledge that it _would _be better next time – _at least it better be, if that brat doesn't want me to scramble his brains. _

And speaking of the brat, why wasn't he up yet? Time was money, and Mammon had no room for callous fools who wasted his precious money. Scowling, he turned and conjured up an illusion of a large alarm clock, setting it off. The boy screamed bloody murder as it went off in his ear, jumping up and looking around wildly. With a wave of his hand, Mammon vanished the illusion again and glided down to where the boy was.

He snapped to attention as soon as he realized Mammon was in front of him. "S-sir."

"What do you see, boy?" He pointed up to the ceiling. The brat was quick to catch on.

"D-did you-"

"No. It was an illusion, and a very basic one at that. The weakest one, in fact, one that even a _child _should be able to see through. The fact that you didn't realize it was an illusion makes you a very stupid tool, child. I don't deal with tools, and I don't teach tools. Do you understand?"

The brunette looked crestfallen, and... ashamed. Yes, he was ashamed, Mammon realized. "Yes sir."

He'd applied the stick; now it was time for the carrot. Taking the boy's chin between his fingers, he forced the head up to look at him. "However, you are not a tool. You are dangerous; not only because you don't know what's occurring in the world around you, but because you are unaware of how to utilize your abilities to their full potential, abilities that could kill one or all of us. The Varia have two methods when disposing of dangerous things. Do you know what they are?"

The boy gulped, face paling. However, his eyes were firm. "K-killing them, sir?"

"That's one, yes." Mammon's grip tightened slightly. "But there is a lesser known one. Can you tell me what it is, boy?"

He licked his lips before answering in a very quiet voice. "No sir."

Mammon smirked. The boy had so much to learn. "We leash them, child. We tie them down and force them into obedience. We break them down and rebuild them into something that is not a tool, but a person. Something that can be used, but also appreciated, like a fine piece of work. Right now you are nothing more than a tool in this household, easy to exploit and use. But with my help, you will become a person rather than a thing. Be aware, my teachings do not come cheap. For every day you fail to pay me back, I'll tax you heavily."

"B-but sir, I don't have any money to pay you back with."

Mammon scoffed. "Stupid child. Is our leader asking you for money in exchange for your stay? Is Lussuria asking for money in exchange for his kindness? No. You will pay me the same way you are paying the rest of the Varia; with your services. You will work for me, and manage what needs to be managed. In exchange, you will learn to control the parts of yourself that make you dangerous. When you secure a job, we can talk about finances then."

The boy sighed and nodded. "Okay. I take it I need to work out a schedule or something with you?"

"Of course, boy. I don't do things out of order."

Two hours later the boy was tottering out of the study, cleaning supplies draped over his shoulders. After another marathon of scrubbing and cleaning, it had been decided that he would spend no less than five hours every day with Mammon, cleaning or learning, and the rest of the time was to be spent keeping the house tidy or obeying orders from the other members of the Varia. The boy offered no protest of the idea of being locked up in the study for five hours, and merely nodded and accepted the paper dictating his schedule in the coming days before leaving.

Mammon called in a drink and smiled as he examined his own schedule, done up in brilliant blue ink. The next days would certainly be interesting. _Let's see how long that subservient manner of yours lasts, boy._

* * *

Morning of the next day found Xanxus in the kitchen, content as he ate breakfast. Right now only he and the brat were awake, and the brat was out in the front pulling weeds and fertilizing the lawn. He had to admit, he hadn't thought the boy would last as long as he had, but somehow or another Fate had blessed the kid – he was staying out of the Varia's way, but he was still obeying orders. Xanxus didn't know what Mammon had said to the kid yesterday, but when he had gone to bed later that evening he'd been rubbing his shoulders and looking determined, if not a little apprehensive.

Today, most of that apprehension had vanished, replaced with an almost steel-like glint in the kid's gaze that made Xanxus wonder what he was thinking about. It also made him wonder if the kid would ever gain enough resolve to activate his Dying Will. While Xanxus didn't like the idea of dealing with a possible rebellion, he was too curious about what sort of Flame the kid possessed. With the way Lussuria had taken to the kid, it was possible he was a Sun user, which would be an advantage. Having two strong Sun users here would definitely help on the off chance Enrico ever got his shit together.

Then again, Mammon seemed to be vesting an interest as well, so maybe the kid was a Mist user. _Listen to yourself; the kid's been here a total of six days, and you're thinking about how to keep him here. _Shaking his head at his own foolishness, Xanxus tossed back the glass of bourbon and sighed through his nose, glancing over towards the front door. _Then again, the little shit is pretty damn useful. Polite, down to earth, doesn't seem to take shit from anyone. Both Lussuria and Squalo like him. He could be useful – not to mention if what that fuck-face over the phone said is true, I'll be needing him._

Twirling his fork between his fingers, he considered it. The brat didn't take up too much space, he wasn't a food hog or a couch potato. In fact, the days the kid actually stopped working were starting to become few and far between, which was good. In a couple more weeks he'd be fully integrated into the Varia lifestyle – which would probably be just about the time one or more of his boys would get tired of the boy and try to shove him out the front door. If he didn't put his foot down now, the brat might actually be lost. _Fuck me, and fuck Enrico for killing the kid's father. _

He had considered telling the kid about that, but in the end had refused. The kid seemed happy here at the compound, and while there were little bursts where he seemed wistful or lonely, he didn't seem to mind where he'd found himself. Xanxus couldn't bring himself to spoil the good air with something like that. Besides, the brat might not believe him. Sighing, he put his fork down and pushed away from the table. Suddenly he wasn't so hungry anymore.

As he started back towards his room, his head began to hurt. Hissing, Xanxus rubbed his temples, hoping to assuage the sudden headache. Except it wasn't a headache. As Xanxus continued to stand there, he felt the pull indicating his intuition was at work, and his heart rate skyrocketed up in his chest when he realized the pull was leading him outside. _Don't. Don't assume... why would he attack today when your intuition was going haywire __**yesterday**__? _

Before Xanxus could ponder on the reason why however, a scream – a man's scream – rent the air, and Xanxus was dashing out the front doors, shoving them aside just in time to see the brat plunge a garden spade into the arm of the man holding him – Enrico's Rain Guardian, Enoch. Enoch yelled and lashed out, sending the brat sprawling to the ground. In the process he lost his grip on the spade, and Jasper was on him in the next second, punching and kicking at the brat for all he was worth.

Xanxus lost it when he realized Jasper had a knife, and flared his Will, roaring in rage. The brat got caught up in the aggression-laced aura and fought back, biting into Jasper's neck and clawing at his eyes with savage intent. Fortunately, before he could do more than that, Xanxus was there kicking Jasper aside and sending a Flame of Wrath towards the area Enoch had fled, listening to the screams as the wood caught fire, leaving him trapped in a pit of death.

"You alright, runt?" Xanxus asked as he picked the kid up by the scruff and helped him back on his feet. His nose seemed busted and he had a nasty black eye as well as a split lip, but there was nothing else apart from that.

"Fine, sir. You?"

"Getting better all the time. Get inside and stay there until I call you; tell Squalo to be on standby in case I need him."

"Yes sir." And the brat rushed off to fulfill his orders, leaving Xanxus to face Jasper by himself. Well, not just Jasper, because Xanxus could feel Enrico's flame nearby. The sick bastard probably got off on watching his Guardians beat up little kids.

"Come to finish what you started, Enrico?" Xanxus asked the empty air, knowing his brother would hear. "After all, you already killed the kid's father, over god-knows-what. I take it him escaping wasn't in your big schemes." He sent a flame-laced punched towards Jaspers's stomach when the man stupidly swung at him with the little knife, and listened to the gasp that came out as the wind was driven out of him.

Xanxus caught the pocketknife as it fell, tucking it into his pocket. He'd give it to the brat for being smart and not just letting himself get tossed around later, once this was all sorted out. Kicking Jasper aside, he faced the direction he could feel Enrico's flame coming from, and continued to speak. "You've got balls, sending your fucking dogs here to beat up a kid. A good boss goes to finish what he starts by himself. And a good boss also doesn't involve fucking _kids _in the business."

He felt the exact moment Enrico's flame took a tangible form, and had already shifted into a defensive stance when the man burst out of the bushes, charging towards him with the spear he wielded at the ready. Xanxus knocked the spear aside, grounding his stance and reaching out, grabbing Enrico by the neck, squeezing until the man let go of his weapon. When he lashed out with one of his hands, Xanxus caught that with his other hand and _twisted – _Enrico's scream of pain was like music to his ears. "What's the matter, brother? Can't handle the pain when its _you _on the receiving end instead of a kid?"

"You'll pay for this, Xanxus," Enrico hissed, eyes livid, "For standing against me, and for interfering in my plans for Vongola!"

Xanxus growled, feral as rage took hold. "You dare to hide behind those words. You forget Enrico, I've never been affected by that bullshit you spew. So let's cut to the chase, shall we? You and I both know you killed Sawada Iemitsu, and the reason you're here is to finish the kid. But you're forgetting one very important thing."

"And what's that?" Enrico spat, squirming futilely.

Xanxus's eyes glowed with his resolve. "In order to get to him, you have to go through _me, _first." And he threw Enrico onto the ground. With a roll of his shoulders his jacket was on the ground, and he was calling up the Flames of Wrath. "So c'mon _brother, _show me just how great the Vongola Decimo is. Put me in my place – if you can." Picking up the spear Enrico had dropped, he examined it, and then casually threw it into the nearest tree. The entire head went through it, making it impossible to pull out.

Enrico stared at it in dawning horror. Xanxus cracked his knuckles, shifting his stance again. "Well, brother? I'm right here. Aren't you going to attack? Show me the _might _behind the great kingdom you've created? Prove me wrong, prove that I am nothing more than some _gutter trash, _as you once so _kindly _called me?"

Enrico scuttled back. "You're crazy. I know what you're trying to do, a-and it won't work! It won't!"

"Really? And what exactly am I trying to do?" Xanxus began to prowl towards his brother, following him step for step, always keeping a bit of distance between them, all the better to make Enrico sweat with. If Xanxus really wanted to, he could move across such a distance in a short time – not that Enrico knew that. After their first year together, the bastard had decided Xanxus wasn't worth paying attention to, which really was a pity because then maybe he wouldn't be stupid enough to challenge the man on his own lawn.

"Y-you're trying to get me into attacking first so you can claim that the fault was mine! It's not going to work, Xanxus! It won't!"

Xanxus chuckled, the sound deep and dark. "Oh, foolish brother. Haven't you been paying attention? I already have you, Enrico. Not only have you attacked _me, _on my own grounds with no provocation, but you've attacked one of my servants who I've put under my protection. You sent two of your men after him without any sort of valid reason. The Commission is already on your ass, do you really think they'll love you after this? And then there's the matter that you're after the son of the man you killed, and why? You're also fucking his wife, but that's an entirely different can of worms."

"She came to me of her own choice! You can't yell at me about that!"

"So? Just because she came to you of her own choice doesn't mean that won't get you in trouble. After all, she sold her husband out. What makes you think she won't sell you out too, once she finds someone better than you?"

"There is _no one _better than me!" Enrico roared. "I am the _best _of our world! My blood is the same blood in the veins of the first Vongola, Vongola Primo! That makes me everything he was! I have his power, his strength!"

Xanxus shook his head. "That poor bastard must be spinning in his grave right now. Fuck, _I'd _roll, if I had a grave to roll in. I don't even want to think the kind of shit our ancestors are going to give dad when he dies."

"Don't ignore me!" Enrico screamed, finally launching himself to his feet. His swing was wild, and Xanxus easily stepped back and grabbed the arm, twisting it sharply. Enrico screamed again, hitting the ground on his knees.

"Pathetic. If this is all you have to offer, I'm damn glad I got my boys out of there before you took over. Fuck, I'm glad most of our family has common sense. And you know what? I'm even fucking glad that brat came to see me. You hear that Enrico? You have made me _glad _for a stranger coming to me and begging for protection. And you want to know what else? It was the fucking smartest decision I ever made. I'm about to make another one." Turning towards the house, he bellowed, "BRAT! GET OUT HERE!"

Not even a second passed before the door opened and Tsuna was scurrying out, Squalo right behind him, sword arm ready. "Yes sir?"

Yanking Enrico's head up by his hair, he told the brunette. "You see this man? This is the man that's been hunting you. His name is Enrico Vongola, and he is a _worm."_

It was then that Xanxus witnessed it. The flare behind Tsuna's eyes smouldered and burned, and a familiar flame signature came through the air. "I understand."

_The kid's a Sky user. Well fuck me sideways and call me honey. _"He's also got a nasty little secret about your family, kid. You, tell him." He kicked Enrico in the kidney for good measure.

Let it never be said Enrico didn't know how to do blunt. "You're Sawada Iemitsu's son. I killed your father, you know." He cackled when Tsuna's face went completely blank, the color seeming to vanish from his skin in a few ticks. Xanxus watched carefully, shifting back just a little. He had a feeling about what was going to happen next, but he wanted to watch and see. Squalo did the same, looking between the two. "He deserved to die, for thinking he could get away with having you, for thinking he was better than me." The grin he gave was cold and completely without remorse. "Did you know? He begged for death. He was nothing but a-"

_**CRACK!**_

"_AAAIIIIIIII!" _Enrico's scream was higher pitched this time as Tsuna seemed to teleport across the space and launch a knee into his nose, effectively breaking it. Then, before Enrico could get away, he lashed out with a foot, catching Enrico's jaw and busting it up. Another savage _crack _sounded the air, and Enrico fell back, hands fluttering up to cup his nose and jaw. "Ou boke mah haw!"

A foot put itself over his windpipe. "I'll do more than that."

Xanxus whistled under his breath as he looked at the kid. His eyes, once chocolate brown and so innocently large, had narrowed and darkened more towards burnt orange. His skin was still pale as the flight-or-fight response did its job, forcing the blood back and adrenaline took over. His hands were clenched, his lips were twisted into a fearsome scowl, fuck even his hair seemed to have flattened back in displeasure.

He had thought the kid didn't know anything about their world and would fall back screaming and running at the first sight of blood, but now he was starting to see that the kid knew how to take care and adjust – both of which were important traits in their world. _Not bad, not bad at all. _Unfortunately, he had to stop the kid now or else the Commission would come after _them _for killing Vongola Decimo. It was one thing to beat him stupid for trespassing and breaking the Law of Sanctuary. It was another thing to kill him. Reaching out, Xanxus gently tapped two fingers against the boy's shoulder.

It was good to see the brat wasn't so far gone that he would launch himself at any opponent. "That's enough brat. Any more and you'll make trouble for me."

Those eyes stared at him, and slowly began to dim back to chocolate. "I swore not to do that, so I'll stand aside." His foot came off of Enrico's windpipe, and his face relaxed. Squalo carefully wrapped an arm around his shoulders and led him back inside. Xanxus watched them go, and then turned back to the still-sobbing Enrico.

"Get the fuck off my property, trash. I see you again, I don't care what the Commission thinks, I'll kill you myself. Clear?" Discussion over, he turned and followed his lieutenant and the boy back inside, somehow knowing that despite Enrico's failure, today was only getting started.

* * *

Author's Notes

"Allarme" means _alarm _or _warning._

We meet Enrico, Xanxus proves how much of a badass he is, and Squalo has a moment of kindness. Hopefully everything made sense in this chapter, and once again I haven't butchered anyone's characters too badly. If you spot a detail that seems odd, or have questions for me, leave them behind and I'll get to them. Hope you enjoyed the double chapters. Till next time!


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